Crossroads
by Karone
Summary: How the Outsiders would have gone if the Curtis family included a sister...
1. One

**Chapter 1:**  
  
  
"See ya tomorrow, kid."  
  
"Bright and early, Stella," I called back as I opened the door and stepped out into the parking lot of the diner. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the warm sunlight shining down on my face, and the clean, fresh air that wasn't tainted by the greasy aroma of burgers and fries.   
  
A loud catcall whistle shook me from my reverie, and I looked up to see Curly Shepard heading towards me, his fists jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket, sporting torn jeans and enough hair grease to put even his older brother Tim to shame.   
  
"Somethin' ya want, Shepard?" I asked as he approached.  
  
Curly grinned, his eyes raking me over appreciatively. "Now that ya mention it..."  
  
I rolled my eyes and shoved him in the chest, sending him stumbling back a little. "Shut ya trap, Curly, I ain't in the mood to play around."  
  
Curly immediately sobered, his dark eyes narrowing. "Long day at work, Curtis?" he asked, nodding his head at the diner behind me.  
  
"No more than usual," I replied with a heavy sigh as I started walking. Curly fell into step beside me, as I had expected he would. We've known one another for a long while, since the playground back in grade school, and while Curly may have grown into a first rate thug, he was still a good guy, deep down, you know? I mean, sure he was going to wind up in the cooler for the rest of his life one of these days, having spent more time in the reformatory than anyone else I know, but I kind of liked him.  
  
"Glory, girl," he muttered, digging in his jacket for cigarettes. "I don't see why ya keep workin' yourself this way. It ain't like ya have to or anythin'."  
  
"But I do," I retorted, taking the cigarette he offered me, and allowing him to light it. "We're strugglin' as it is to get all the bills paid each month, an' workin' double shifts gets me some extra cash to put aside."  
  
Curly nodded, but didn't reply. Despite his complaining about the fact that I was overworking myself, he understood why I was doing it. Ever since my parents died a while back, money had been real tight for us at home. My older brothers both had full-time jobs, but what they made was barely enough to make ends meet. I'd been working at the local diner part-time since I was fourteen, but with school and the diving team I wasn't able to get in a lot of hours. Something had to change if our lives were ever going to get any better.  
  
Since dropping out of school wasn't an option, Darry had let Soda drop out only because we needed the money and because Soda isn't really the scholarly type, that left diving to quit.  
  
I hated not being on the team this season, hated not being able to stand up on the edge of the high dive and just loose myself in the art, hated letting my teammates down, but I'd made my choice, and I knew it was the right one.  
  
Of course, Darry wouldn't agree. He's got some much hope for my future riding on my diving. The coach says I've got God-given talent, that I could even make it to the Olympics someday if I worked hard enough. Darry's real serious about me suceeding, the same way he is with Pnoyboy about his schooling. Sometimes I reckon he wants us to do so well because he missed out on his chance.  
  
That's why I couldn't tell him I'd quit the team.  
  
Especially not to work extra hours to help him support the family.  
  
It was hard, sometimes, covering up the fact that I was working more hours than I should be, but I managed. Most of the time I said I was going out with some friends, or to the library or the mall, when in reality I was waiting tables at the diner. I'd started packing my uniform in my bookbag so that right after school I could take off and then change once I got to the diner. When my shift was over, I changed back into my normal clothes, and left my waitress dress with Emma, my best friend since before we could walk, and a fellow waitress at the diner. She'd get my dress cleaned with hers, then bring it back to me at school, so my brothers were none the wiser.  
  
"Your brothers still in the dark?" Curly asked, gesturing with his cigarette to the bag slung over my shoulder.   
  
"Yeah," I replied, taking a long drag on my own cigarette. "They haven't got a clue."  
  
Curly shook his head. "You know when your big brother finds out, Lizzie, he's gonna skin your hide, you know that?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, and I did. But the way I figured it, by the time Darry caught on, I'll have enough money saved up that he won't really be that angry with me. Lord knows we need the money, and he's too proud to admit that he needs the help.  
  
Darry's always been that way, though, even back before Mom and Dad were killed. He works too long and too hard, and refuses to let anyone see him as weak. Guess we both got that from Mom, she was always a real stubborn woman. Darry looks just like Dad, though, with the same broad, strong build, and the same dark brown hair. Dad had brown eyes, though, Darry's are a real pale aquamarine color. Darry's also real serious, the strict and firm man of the house, even though he's only twenty. He's been that way ever since Mom and Dad died, and sometimes I makes me real sad to see how fast he had to grow up. He was just a kid one day, and the next he was suddenly forced to be an adult, and a parent to his three younger siblings. I kind of admire him for that, you know?  
  
My other big brother, Soda, is the complete opposite of Darry. Soda's wild and free, like a young colt that's just testing its legs as it gallops around the field. He's a real charmer, too, with movie-star good looks and the suave demeanor to match. Girls are always fawning all over him, Greaser and Soc alike. It's annoying at times, how that dreamy smile of his makes every girl in town melt. Soda's tall, but shorter than Darry, with a wiry muscularity that suits his seventeen years. Out of all my brothers, I guess I look the most like Sodapop. We both have dark-gold hair and deep brown eyes, a combination of Mom and Dad, and reckless grins. While I tend to work too hard and worry too much, like Darry, Soda just lives every moment as it comes. He's a lot like Dad was in that sense.  
  
"How'd you keep Ponyboy from finding out about you quitting diving?" Curly asked curiously as we turned the corner. He and Pony have always gotten along well, ever since I can remember. They don't hang out much anymore, which is probably a good thing since whenever they did get together they were bound to get into trouble. "Isn't he usually around after school because of track?"  
  
"Nah," I shook my head. "Track season doesn't start for another month."  
  
"You better figure out what the hell you're gonna do about this mess by then," Curly advised. "I don't reckon Pony'll keep his trap shut. Not about that, anyway."  
  
"No," I agreed. "Probably not."  
  
Ponyboy's the baby of the family at fifteen, and a dreamer. One thing I know? That boy's going places in his life. He won't be stuck here forever like some guys, he'll find a way out and make it on his own. He might not see it, but I do. So does Darry, which is why he's so hard on him, pushing him to succeed. While Soda and I look like Mom, and Darry looks like Dad, Pony's as original as they come. His light brown hair has a subtle tint of auburn to it, and his eyes are a stormy gray-green. Sometimes Pony reminds me of a bird, always watching, waiting, searching for the perfect time to fly.   
  
It's for him that I'm working so hard. For Soda and Darry, too, but mostly for him. He doesn't belong in the world we live in, he deserves better. That's why I'm saving up as much money as I can, so that we can give him the life he deserves one of these days.  
  
"Well, I best be gettin' back home," Curly said, taking a drag on his cigarette and nodding back in the other direction. "Wouldn't wanna upset Mr. Timothy Shepard, now would I?"  
  
I grinned as I stomped out my cigarette. "No, wouldn't wanna do a thing like that."  
  
"See ya at school, doll," Curly called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner of the abandoned lot.  
  
"Ya actually plannin' on showin' up?" I called back, only half-joking. I hardly ever miss school, Darry makes sure of that, but Curly attends about as often as I play hookey.   
  
"Maybe," I heard him yell back.  
  
I snorted, doubting very much that he'd show up on Monday. As I walked towards my house, I mentally made a list of the schoolwork I had to get done by Sunday night. Darry wouldn't ask about it until Sunday morning, so I had plenty of time to finish the assignments that I hadn't started on yet.  
  
I was nearing our house when I spotted a bunch of guys sitting on the side of the road. As I drew closer, I recognized them, and veered off towards them. With a quick glance in both directions- the gang is always making fun of me for doing that, but I don't see what's so wrong with trying not to get run over- I cut across the street. "Hey, ya'll," I called out, and the gang looked up as I approached.  
  
There's eight of us in our gang, four others besides my brothers and I. We've all known each other a long time, having grown up in the same neighborhood. The boys were all tough as nails, and they looked it, too.   
  
Two-Bit Matthews was the oldest, after Darry, that is, at eighteen and a half. His real name was Keith, but no one ever called him that, not even his own mother. He was about six feet tall, with a stocky build, and his copper-colored sideburns were his pride and joy. His gray eyes always seem to be laughing, and nearly every time he opens his mouth something sarcastic comes out. Two-Bit's always liked fights, blondes, shoplifting, drinking, his precious switchblade, cars, and, oddly enough, school. He's still a junior, and I doubt he's planning on graduating any time soon, he just goes for kicks. Two-Bit's a real buddy, though, the kind of guy who can always make you laugh.  
  
Next was Dallas Winston, who we call Dally. Dally's easily the most dangerous of our gang, with a hatred for the world that the rest of us just don't have. In that way he reminds me a lot of Tim Shepard, both of them wild and bitter and deadlier than a rattlesnake. He's had a hard life, he was thrown in jail for the first time when he was only ten. He even spent a few years up in the rough parts of New York. Dally's a real hood, with a rap sheet down at the station a mile long. He's good looking, with high cheekbones, a narrow jaw, unruly white-blond hair and ice blue eyes. He'd be real handsome, if there wasn't so much coldness, so much meanness, inside of him. It ain't really his fault, he doesn't try to be that way, he just is.  
  
Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with dark curly hair and intense dark eyes. He and Soda have been best friends since they were little kids, and they've always made a great team. The DX station they work at gets the most business in town, partly because Soda attracts girls there like crazy, and partly because Steve is so good with cars. He knows them inside and out, and he can lift a hubcap quicker and more silently than anyone in town. While Soda works full-time, Steve works part-time, since he's still going to school. Sometimes I wonder why he bothers with classes, when he claims all he's ever going to do with his life is work on cars. Maybe his old man won't let him drop out, or maybe that diploma means more to Steve than he lets on.   
  
The last member of our gang was sixteen year-old Johnny Cade, and he comes from a real broken home. His father is always beating him, and his mother's too drunk to even know he exists, except for when she's angry, in which case you can hear her screaming at him all the way at our house. Johnny's a real good kid, with tan skin, slicked back black hair, and haunted black eyes. He's the youngest, other than Pony, and small in build. Though he's only a few months younger than me, he looks a lot younger. A lot smaller, too, in some ways, more timid and scared. A few months back Johnny was walking home when he was jumped by a group of Socs, and they beat him up pretty bad. He was a bloody, bruised mess when we found him, with a nasty gash from his temple to cheekbone. He'd carry that scar, and the emotional ones that day had inflicted, for the rest of his life._  
_  
"Well, look what we have here, boys," Two-Bit drawled with a lopsided smirk. "Ain't she a pretty li'l thing?"  
  
"You ain't so bad, yourself," I retorted with a wink as I dropped down on the sidewalk beside Pony. "What the hell happened to you, kid?" I asked, reaching out to brush some blood from his face with my thumb. "You look like you ran into a truck!"  
  
"A couple of Socs got a hold of him," Dally explained, flicking his ashes in my direction. I scowled at him, and he shrugged innocently. "Got himself roughed up a good bit."  
  
"I'll say," I murmured, tracing the bruise on Pony's cheek with my fingers. "How'd ya manage to get cornered, huh, Pony?"  
  
Darry answered for him, giving us both a scolding look. "He was walkin' by his lonesome. And by the looks of it, so were you."  
  
For a moment I was tempted to make a snappish remark, I'd had a long day and the last thing I needed was Darry acting like I was a helpless little damsel in distress, but I thought better of it when I saw the warning look Ponyboy threw my way. "Curly Shepard saw me as far as the lot," I replied simply, batting aside the cigarette Dally was offering to me.  
  
Darry didn't look real thrilled to hear I'd been associating with Curly Shepard, but he couldn't say anything. He'd said that I shouldn't walk alone, he never said anything about who I should or shouldn't walk with.  
  
Steve, though, apparently felt the need to open his mouth. "What were ya doin' with the likes of him?" he demanded with a disapproving frown.  
  
"Walkin'," I replied shortly. "Or did ya miss that part?"  
  
I don't know why Steve and I bicker like we do, I reckon we can't help it. It's not that we don't like each other, it's just that for some reason he always knows what buttons to push with me, and I do the same with him. We're both stubborn and sarcastic, so it doesn't take much for us to get into a scuffle about the littlest of things.  
  
Luckily Dally chose that moment to speak up. "I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tommorrow night," he announced. "Anybody want to come and hunt some action?"  
  
Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are picking up Evie and Sandy for the game."  
  
I rolled my eyes in disgust, partly because I don't care much for Evelyn Parker, but mostly because I had plans to go to the game, too, and I didn't fnacy spending it with Soda and Steve and their girls around. It wasn't often that I actually took a night off from work lately, but Emma and Tessa had pleaded with me, and I'd caved under their begging.  
  
"Lizzie?" Dally asked, raising an eyebrow in my direction. My full name is Elizabeth, but no one calls me that, except for Darry, and then only when I'm in trouble.   
  
"Sorry, Dallas," I replied apologetically. "I promised Emma and Tes I'd go with 'em to the game."  
  
"And just how do you plan on gettin' home from the game, princess?" Darry demanded evenly.  
  
I opened my mouth to reply, but Soda cut me off. "We'll give her a ride, won't we Steve?"  
  
"Sure thing, Sodapop."  
  
I opened my mouth to protest, but Darry was already nodding his consent. "Good. That's settled then. Lizzie, you wait for Soda and Steve, you hear me?"  
  
"How could I not?" I muttered under my breath. "You're loud enough."  
  
Apparently I didn't say that quite as quietly as I meant to, because Two-Bit snickered, and Darry glared at me. Of course, the affect of his glare was severely diminished when Soda stuck out his tongue behind his head.  
  
"How about y'all?" Dally asked the others. "Two-Bit? Johnnycake, you and Ponyboy wanna come?"  
  
"Me and Johnny'll come," Pony answered. He glanced at Darry for approval. "Okay, Darry?"  
  
"Yeah, since it ain't a school night," Darry agreed. It's funny, on school nights Darry barely lets Pony out of the house, he's so strict about his schooling, but I'm pretty much allowed to come and go as I please, so long as I'm in by a reasonable hour. Pony complains that it's not fair, but I am a whole two years older than him, not to mention half the time I'm at work instead of out with my friends.  
  
"I was plannin' on gettin' boozed up tomorrow night," Two-Bit said. "If I don't, I'll walk over and find ya'll."  
  
"You break up with Sylvia again?" Steve asked, and I turned to see him studying Dally's right hand. On his finger was his infamous ring, which he'd given to Sylvia a while back.   
  
"Yeah, and this time it's for good," Dally growled. "That little broad was two-timin' me again while I was in jail."  
  
I couldn't really say I was surprised. Sylvia had never been much for fidelity, though in her defense it wasn't entirely her fault. Dallas wasn't exactly the kind of guy who lavished you with time and affection, he mostly just wanted some action.   
  
Sylvia just wanted some attention.  
  
Not that I was going to point that out. Dally's never raised a hand against me, not once, no matter what I've said or done, but I knew better than to make him angry. Besides, Sylvia wasn't exactly my favorite person. She wore too much make-up and bleached her hair, and she had a shrill laugh, one of the ones that made your skin crawl. Like most of the girls in our neighborhood, she had a foul mouth, a sharp tongue, and was just plain rude. I never did understand what Dally saw in her.  
  
"It's gettin' late," Darry said, rising to his feet. "We better get on home or dinner's gonna get cold."  
  
"What are we having?" I asked as he extended a hand down to help me up.   
  
"Burgers," Darry replied, and it was all I could do not to throw up. After working all day at the diner, the last thing I wanted to eat was a greasy hamburger, but I wasn't in a position to complain. For one thing, Darry worked hard to keep food on our plates and I wasn't going to upset him. For another, as far as my brothers knew I'd spent the past few hours at the shopping mall with Emma, not waiting tables.  
  
I forced myself to try and finish off my burger at dinner, but I couldn't manage it without feeling nauseous, so I ended up eating the roll instead. Soda noticed, and asked if I was feeling okay, so I told him that my stomach was bothering me a little, that was all.  
  
After dinner, Ponyboy sat down to work on some of his homework, and Soda gave Darry a back-rub. Darry roofs houses, so he's always pulling muscles. Soda's real good at back-rubs, though, so he's usually able to work out the stiffness in Darry's back.   
  
I took a long shower, trying hard to scrub the scent of burgers and fries off of my skin and out of my hair, though I knew it was mostly my imagination. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Soda was already laying in bed, hollering for Pony to turn off the light, and Darry was passed out in his own room, sound asleep. I paused at Soda and Pony's door, offering them both a small smile. "Night," I said. "Sleep well."  
  
"Night, li'l sister," Soda murmured sleepily.  
  
"Night, Lizzie," Pony said as he climbed into bed beside him.   
  
I padded along the hall to my own room, which was considerably smaller than the one Soda and Pony shared. It used to be our washroom, but when I'd hit puberty Mom had decided it wasn't fair to make me share a room with three boys, so she and Dad had worked it out so that the washer and dryer could go in the utility closet, and they'd converted the old washroom into a small bedroom for me. After the accident, Darry had moved into Mom and Dad's room, giving Soda and Pony more space.  
  
I turned off the lamp beside my bed and laid down.  
  
I was alseep before my head even hit the pillow.


	2. Two

****

**_TallemeraRane- Lizzie is 16, Pony is 14. The part where I refered to Lizzie as 14 was past-tense, and Pony's age was a mistake.  
  
Vampire-Slaying-Greaser-Gal- there will definately be some romance in the future, that is for certain.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope you all continue to read and enjoy this story as it progresses  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_****  
Chapter Two:**  
  
Emma and I got off work about an hour before the game, and Tessa was waiting on us in the diner parking lot, so we walked to the stadium together. Darry doesn't like it when we walk alone, just us girls, because we're easy targets for the Socs to harass, and sometimes even our own kind will get a little mouthy with us, but I wasn't worried. All three of us could take care of ourselves, and hold our own in a fight.   
  
And if it got bad enough, I always carried a blade. Dallas had given me the one I kept hidden in my jacket, insisting that it wasn't safe for me to go around without one. I'd never had to use it, and I hoped I never would, but I carried it anyway, just in case.  
  
When we got to the stadium, I got a large popcorn to share with the girls and a Pepsi with the money Darry had given me, and lent Tessa some of my own money so that she could get herself a drink, too. We found seats at the top of the stands, where we always liked to sit, and settled down to wait for the game to start.   
  
Curly and some of his buddies had been hanging out under the bleachers, smoking cigarettes, but they came up to join us as the game began. Billy Janson and Mike Crammer both go to school with us, though they show up about as often as Curly does. Billy has brown hair that he keeps combed back tight against his skull, held in place with a surplus of hair grease, and sharp blue eyes. He's kind of on the quiet side, real moody like, but he digs okay. Mikey's a loudmouthed kid with bleached blond hair and eyes as black as coal. He can be sort of callous at times, but Tessa's got a thing for him, so I didn't mind having him around.  
  
"Heard your brother got jumped," Curly commented, leaning against the back of the bleachers. "He okay?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied, pulling my jacket a little closer unconsciously at the thought of what had happened to Pony. "He's okay. They just shook him up a little, that's all. He's got a tuff looking bruise, and cut that might scar a bit, but other than that he's okay."  
  
"Good to hear," Curly replied, inhaling another drag off his cigarette. "Them Socs are askin' for trouble. One of these days they're gonna get the stompin' they deserve."  
  
"Wouldn't surprise me," I responded, taking a sip of my drink. "Tension's been mountin' lately. It's gotta blow apart sooner or later."  
  
"I'm hopin' for later," Emma said, reaching across my lap to snag a handful of popcorn. "Things are bad enough without all-out turf wars breakin' out."  
  
"Don't worry your pretty head, doll," Curly said nonchalantly. "If the Socs want trouble, we'll give 'em trouble. And they'll regret ever messin' with us Greasers."  
  
"Don't call me that," Emma scowled. "I'm not a doll."  
  
She was, though, she just couldn't see it. Her what blond curls fell softly on her shoulders, and her green eyes were full of fire and determination. She was about five-foot-six, the same height as me, with a willowy form that a lot of girls envied. She had dimples, two of them both perfectly adorable when she smiled, and she had faint traces of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was a doll, whether she thought so or not.  
  
"Whatever you say, Emma," Curly retorted, knowing by now not to argue with her. "Mikey, pass me those cigarettes, would you?"  
  
Mikey was too wrapped up in flirting with Tessa to hear him, so Curly sighed, and reached over to yanked the carton out of his jacket. Mikey barely even noticed.  
  
"He's dead to the world," Curly muttered.  
  
"He's not the only one," Emma pointed out, and I followed her gaze back to Tessa, who was smiling broadly, laughing at something Mikey was saying. "If Tes smiles any more, her face might fall off."  
  
I smacked her playfully. "Don't say things like that," I scolded, but couldn't help smiling. Tessa was a pretty girl, with straight black hair and dark green eyes, but she didn't pursue boys very often. Her father had left when she was little, and her older brothers had both been in prison since she was eleven, so she didn't have much practice in dealing with the opposite sex. Emma had given her some pointers, though, and apparently that had boosted Tessa's confidence.  
  
Billy said something to Curly, who leaned forward to peer over the heads of the people in front of us. Emma tapped me on the shoulder, her lips curved into a smirk. "Don't look now," she said. "But here comes your dreamy brother."  
  
I rolled my eyes, used to Emma drooling over Soda. She used to have a crush on him when we were younger, but she grew out of it. She insists that now she just has a healthy appreciation for his good looks.  
  
I glanced down towards the bottom of the stands, and, sure enough, there was Soda, starting to climb the steps with Sandy on his arm. Steve and Evie were just behind them, engaged in conversation, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. What he could possibly have to talk about with her? It wasn't like Evie knew anything about cars or drag races or rodeos. What was there for them to talk about? Who uses what brand of hair dye? The latest gossip around school?  
  
"Duck down," I hissed, tugging on her arm. I wasn't at all in the mood to have they join us. "Maybe they won't see us."  
  
"Hey, Sodapop!" Emma called, making a point of standing to get his attention even as I pulled her back down. It was too late, though, Soda had seen us, and was now headed in our direction, a grin on his face.  
  
"I'm gonna kill ya for this later," I growled at Emma, but she didn't even bat an eye at the threat, and I couldn't say anything else as Soda dropped down beside me, draping an arm over my shoulder.  
  
"Hey, there, li'l sister," he drawled, helping himself to some of my popcorn. "Fancy meetin' you here."  
  
"Quit that," I scolded, swatting his hand away from the bag in annoyance. "Go get your own popcorn, Soda."  
  
"That's okay," Soda said cheerfully, popping another handful into his mouth. "I'd rather eat yours."  
  
I scowled, so he plastered a sloppy kiss on my cheek, making me scowl even more as I rubbed furiously with the sleeve of my shirt. "Quit it, Soda. What do you wanna bother me for anyway? Aren't you on a date or somethin'?" I looked pointedly past him where Sandy stood beside Evie and Steve. "Evenin', Sandy," I said politely, smiling at her. She and Soda had been going together for a long time now, and I liked her, so I figured the least I could do was be nice to her, even if I wasn't in the best of moods anymore.  
  
"Hi, Lizzie," she replied, smiling back. "Enjoyin' the game?"  
  
"I reckon," I nodded. "How about you?"  
  
"It's been alright so far," Sandy answered, her china blue eyes darting to Soda, giving me the impression that she'd been paying more attention to him than the game. She nodded past me at Emma and Tessa, who I knew had a few classes with her at school. "Hi there, girls. Havin' fun?"  
  
"Some of us more than others," Emma replied dryly, gesturing with her cup to Tessa and Mikey, who were still off in their own little world. "Hello, Steve, Evelyn," she adressed the others.  
  
They replied in kind, and Soda held out my popcorn to Steve, allowing him to take some. I sighed, realizing that they weren't going to go away. Evie greeted me, and by some miracle I managed to say hello back without gritting my teeth. I don't know why I dislike her so much, there's just something about her that rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's all the hairspray she uses to hold her dark curls in place, or maybe it's the overdose of make-up and the incessant snapping of bubble gum. For whatever reason, I just don't like her.  
  
Now Sandy is a different story. Her golden locks are natural, and she doesn't wear that much make-up. She's got a gentle laugh, real kind, you know? Had she come from a better home, she'd have made a good Soc, I suppose. She's a nice girl, which is more than I can say for Evelyn Parker.  
  
Steve reached for more popcorn, and I slapped his wrist, harder than I'd swatted Soda, and harder than I'd meant to. "Glory," he muttered, rubbing his skin as he glared at me. "What's with you, Lizzie?"  
  
"Maybe I just wanted to go one night without havin' the likes of you hangin' around," I snapped. "Did ya ever think of that?"  
  
"Oh?" Steve retorted, his eyes flashing. "Then maybe you should have changed your plans when ya heard we were comin' to the game, huh?"  
  
"Maybe I should have," I replied hotly.   
  
"Awww, be quiet, you two," Soda said, not bothered by our usual arguing. "I'm tryin' to watch the game here."  
  
"Shut up, Soda," we both grumbled, but we begrudgingly complied.  
  
Soda rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to the game.   
  
About an hour later we were all headed out for the parking lot together, and Curly and his buddies took off, no doubt to go hunt some action, leaving us alone with Soda, Steve and the girls. Steve and I had bickered through most of the game, but without the caustic edge of our earlier encounter. I still wasn't sure why I'd lashed out at him the way I had, he'd just made me so angry all of the sudden. As for Steve, he'd made an effort not to upset me further during the game, though it was obvious he didn't know what had unnerved me so bad.  
  
The scary thing was, neither did I.  
  
If you asked me who won the game, I couldn't tell you. We don't really go to watch the game, just to hang out. Back when Darry was still in high school, he was the captain of the football team, so I used to be really into cheering him on, but since then I just don't find the game as interesting.  
  
"I'm hungry," Soda complained, his arm draped around Sandy's shoulder. "Let's head over to the diner and get somethin' to eat."  
  
I grimaced a little at the thought of eating greasy food, but thankfully no one seemed to notice except Emma and Curly, who both knew about my extra hours. "That sounds great," Steve clapped his hands together eagerly. "I'm so hungry I could eat an entire cow."  
  
Sandy, Evie and I all made a face at that, but for entirely different reasons. "You gonna be okay?" Emma asked me quietly.  
  
I nodded in reply, then looked up as I found Soda's hand tugging me to his side by the wrist. "Well, now, ain't this nice? I've got both my best girl and my best sister along for the evenin'."  
  
"She's your only sister," Steve retorted.  
  
"That's right," Soda agreed. I was trying to pull away, but he slipped his arm around my shoulder, holding me in place. "And I wouldn't trade her for the world." A sly grin crept across his face. "That is, unless you're offerin' to take her off my hands..."  
  
Steve held up his hands in protest. "That's alright, you can keep her."  
  
I scowled. "Thanks a lot, Steven," I hissed, putting emphasis on his full name.  
  
"You're welcome," he replied with a smirk. "Elizabeth."  
  
"Hey, now," Soda said, trying not to laugh. "No name callin'. You two just try to get along for the rest of the evenin', alright?"  
  
"He started it," I protested, at the same time that Steve insisted it was my fault. I was about to comment when Emma tugged on my hand, pulling me back to walk with her and Tessa. Steve turned his attention back to Evie as she said something, and I couldn't help rolling my eyes.  
  
We managed to all squeeze into Steve's car by some miracle, with Sandy sitting on Soda's lap and Evie squeezing into the space between Steve and Soda up front, making room for Tessa, Emma and I in the back. After a rather cramped ride to the diner, we piled out, and headed inside.   
  
It was a busy night, and the waitresses were rushing around taking orders, so we seated ourselves. Emma, Tessa and I trailed behind the others a little as Soda led the way through the crowd, heading for a booth in the corner. They were just sitting down when a familiar voice called my name from the kitchen.  
  
Wincing, I turned to see Mindy, one of the waitresses, hurrying towards me. "Glory, Lizzie," she cried. "I reckon it's a good thing ya showed, we're swamped. I was beginnin' to think ya weren't comin' in tonight."  
  
Emma elbowed me lightly in the side, signaling that Soda and the others were watching, so I smiled faintly. "I'm not here to work," I told Mindy, knowing Soda would be asking questions when I got back to the table.  
  
"Oh," Mindy frowned. Her eyes darted past me to the booth Soda had chosen, then widened slightly. "Oh," she repeated, this time with understanding. "Of course you aren't. You don't work the night shift. Lordy, I must be workin' too hard, I got myself mixed up. Sorry to take ya away from your group, honey."  
  
"It's okay," I assured her, giving her a grateful look as I followed Emma and Tessa back towards the table. "Good luck tonight."  
  
As soon as we sat down, Soda gave me a curious look. "What was that all about?"   
  
"Nothin'," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "Mindy's just a little stressed. She was hopin' that I'd come in to help out. I feel kind of bad havin' to disappoint her, they really are overworked tonight. Maybe I should give them a hand..."  
  
"Don't even think about it," Soda cut me off. "Ya don't ever spend your nights waitin' tables, no need to start now."  
  
"Right," I said weakly, forcing a smile.  
  
Steve was frowning at me, his brow furrowed, but I refused to meet his gaze, instead turning to Sandy and asking her how school was going for her. She smiled and said it was going just fine, but that Mr. Locke was a real slave-driver. Emma and Evie agreed with her, and soon the whole table was involved in a conversation about the crazy teachers at school, even Soda, who'd had some of them last year, before he dropped out, and had heard the rest of us complain about the others on more than one occasion.  
  
When Mindy came to take our orders, she gave me another apologetic glance, and I smiled at her to assure her she hadn't done any harm. The boys had all ordered burgers, and Evie and Sandy both decided to get chicken fingers, but Emma, Tessa and I stuck with milkshakes. I couldn't eat anything else without being sick, and I reckon they didn't want to risk making me nauseous by eating a burger in front of me.  
  
Sipping my chocolate shake and half-listening to the conversation around me, I found myself staring absently at Evie's hand, where Steve's class ring was on display. Class rings were given out junior year, so I wouldn't get mine till next year, but Steve was a junior, and had given his to Evie the day he got it. Because Soda dropped out, he didn't get a class ring, and so Sandy's finger was bare. I thought that was kind of unfair, that a girl like Sandy, who deserved a ring, didn't get one, and Evelyn Parker did.  
  
I guess that saying about how life isn't fair is true, after all.  
  
Steve glanced over at me, and I tore my gaze away from his ring, looking instead at the pictures on the wall, even though I saw them every day at work. I figured he would turn his attention back to Evie, but when I looked back in his direction he was still looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
If I'd looked over at Emma just then, I would have seen the smile on her lips, and the knowing look in her eyes.


	3. Three

**Chapter Three:  
**  
  
"You feelin' okay, Lizzie?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied, casting Soda a startled glance. "Why?"  
  
We were walking home from the diner together, so that Steve could drive the four girls home. It was a warm enough evening, so we didn't mind walking, and it was a nice night, with a clear sky and plenty of moonlight.  
  
"Nothin', really," Soda shrugged. "Steve just noticed that ya didn't really eat much at the diner, and I thought maybe your stomach was still botherin' ya like it was last night."  
  
"I just wasn't hungry," I lied. "That popcorn filled me up, I guess."  
  
Soda raised an eyebrow skeptically, looking infuriating like Mom. "You didn't even eat half of the bag," he rebutted.  
  
"That's because somebody kept stealin' it from me," I retorted, swinging at him playfully. "You and Steve eat like horses, ya know that?"  
  
"So ya keep tellin' us."  
  
I made a face at him, then raised my face towards the sky, looking at the stars as we walked in silence. I've always been fascinated by the stars for some reason, ever since I was little. I guess it's because they're so far away, and yet they shine with such brilliance, like nothing can touch them, you know? Dad and I used to sit out on the porch during the summer nights and gaze up at the stars, looking for constellations. Sometimes Pony would sit with us, but usually it was just me and Dad.  
  
After he died the stars always seemed a little colder somehow, like they'd lost some of that brilliance.  
  
When we got home, Darry was putting his jeans in the wash. He looked up as we strolled into the kitchen, a frown on his face. "I thought you were Ponyboy," he explained, before Soda could make a sarcastic remark about him not being happy to see us.  
  
"He ain't back yet?" I asked with a frown of my own.  
  
Darry shook his head. "No, he ain't, and it's gettin' late. I'm kind of worried."  
  
"Aww, don't be," Soda waved dismissively, heading back into the living room and flopping down on the couch to watch the television. "He's probably on his way back now. Just watch, he'll be home soon."  
  
"I hope so," Darry said grimly.  
  
"He'll be fine," I assured him with a steady smile, then turned and headed for my room to change into my pajamas. I tugged off my jeans and my shirt, and slipped into a pair of lightweight navy pants and an old sweatshirt of Soda's. I brushed my long hair back into a ponytail and fastened it with a band, then lowered myself down onto my bed, reaching for the book on my nightstand.  
  
We were supposed to be reading _The Grapes of Wrath_ for class, but I hadn't found the time to get past the first chapter yet. When Darry'd asked how my reading was coming along the other day, I told him I was on the fifth chapter. I figured I might as well make an effort to get at least that far.  
  
I was just about finished with the fourth chapter when the sound of the door opening caught my attention. I glanced over at the clock and was surprised to see that it read 2:00 AM. "What the hell is Pony out this late for?" I muttered, and Darry must have been wondering the same thing, for his voice boomed through the house a moment later.  
  
"Where the heck have you been?! Do you know what time it is?!"  
  
I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up, my bare feet padding on the cool floor as I made my way out to the living room. Darry was towering over Ponyboy, glowering like a titan, while Pony chewed on his fingernails, trying to avoid looking up at him.  
  
"Well it's two in the morning, kiddo," Darry snapped. "Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy? Where in the almighty universe were you?!"  
  
"I..." Pony stammered. "I fell asleep in the lot."  
  
"You what?!" Darry roared, and I flinched, startled.  
  
Soda jolted awake on the couch, having fallen asleep waiting for Ponyboy to return. He rubbed his eyes, looking around in bewilderment, until his gaze fell on our little brother. "Hey, Ponyboy," he said sleepily. "Where ya been?"  
  
"I didn't mean to," Pony tried to explain to Darry as he sidestepped around him, heading for the bathroom. "I was talkin' to Johnny and we both dropped off..."  
  
"I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers and sister might be worrying their heads off, and afraid to call the police because somethin' like that could get the three of you thrown into a home so fast it'd make your head spin!"  
  
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling tight all of the sudden. "Darry..." I pleaded softly.  
  
"And you were asleep in the lot?!" he continued, ignoring me. "Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on!"  
  
"I said I didn't mean to!" Ponyboy cried, his eyes wild with hot tears.  
  
"I didn't mean to," Darry shouted, his face flushed with anger. "I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I ever from you! Can't you think of anything?!"  
  
"Darry," Soda began, having fully woken up by now. "Give him a break, he's-"  
  
"You shut your trap," Darry cut him off with a snarl. "I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him!"  
  
Soda faltered in surprise, Darry never yelled at Soda. I was shocked, too, but Ponyboy was just angry. "Don't you yell at him!" he exploded venomously, and Darry whirled around so fast I almost didn't see what happened next.  
  
But even if I hadn't seen it, I would have heard it, as Darry's hand connected with Ponyboy's cheek, and then Ponyboy was reeling back into the door with a crash.   
  
A cold silence fell over the room, and I reckon not one of us could remember how to breathe. Nobody in our family had ever hit Ponyboy, not ever. Soda's eyes were huge, disbelief etched across his face. Ponyboy was leaning into the door, his mouth open in shock. My fingers were trembling over my mouth, and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up.  
  
Darry looked down at his reddened hand, then up at Pony, his eyes tormented. "Pony," he rasped. "I..."  
  
But Pony was already bolting out the door and leaping down the steps, and pounding down the street.  
  
Darry threw open the door, hollering after him, "Pony, I didn't mean to!"   
  
The initial shock had worn off, and I glanced over at Soda, who was swallowing hard, obviously shaken by what had just happened. Darry was shutting the door, and as he turned back towards us I let him have it.  
  
I'm a small girl, even at five foot-six, I'm a good eight inches shorter than Darry, and I only weigh about a hundred pounds. But I'm tougher than I look, and I'm a good fighter, and I was aiming to remind him of that when I slammed my fist into his jaw.  
  
Darry didn't stumble back like most people would, but I had the satisfaction of seeing his head snap to the side with a jerk, and when he looked back at me, there was a splatter of blood on his lip. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him. "Are you stoned or somethin'? Do ya have any idea what ya just did?!"  
  
"Lizzie..." Soda said firmly, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back to keep me from jumping on Darry again. Soda held me to him, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist in case I decided to try to get loose.  
  
"I didn't mean to..." Darry murmured, his voice fragile. "I... I didn't..."  
  
All the anger drained out of me right then, seeing the frightened, scared look in my big brother's eyes. He was terrified, not only of what he'd just done, but of what his actions might lead Pony to do now. He was such a tough guy, rock solid and just as strong, but here he was, standing in the middle of the living room, looking about as lost as a puppy in the center ring of a rodeo.   
  
"We know you didn't," Soda assured him gently, in that soothing tone of his, the one that always makes you believe everything is going to be okay. "And Pony knows it, too. He just needs to calm down, let out some of his tension. Don't worry, things are gonna be fine."  
  
I wasn't so sure, though, and something inside of me was still clenched tight with fear, so I moved towards the door, reaching for my jacket hanging on the coat-rack.  
  
"Where do ya think you're goin'?" Soda demanded, quietly but with a sternness that meant he wasn't playing around.  
  
"Where do ya think?" I retorted, shouldering on my jacket. "I'm goin' after him. Lord knows what trouble that boy could get into in the state of mind he's in now."  
  
"He'll be fine," Soda said, somehow sounding calm, even though I knew he was anything but. "He just needs some time to cool down, that's all."  
  
"But-" I protested.  
  
"He'll come back on his own," Soda said firmly. "Let him have some time to himself first. He's got some thinkin' to do, I reckon. Darry needs us right now." He glanced over at Darry and I followed his gaze to find him lowering himself shakily into the armchair in the corner, his expression dazed, his eyes glossy and faraway.  
  
I sighed, realizing Soda was right. Darry did need us right now, perhaps more than he ever had. Wordlessly, I walked over to him and dropped down into a crouch in front of him, looking up at him, trying to catch his gaze. "Darry," I said softly. When he didn't react, I reached out to touch his cheek gently. "Darry, look at me."  
  
He raised his head and I found myself looking into haunted eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry I hit ya," I whispered, feeling my own eyes begin to sting with liquid. "I know ya didn't mean to hit Pony, or to chase him off. I shouldn't have lashed out ya like I did. I'm sorry."  
  
Darry just nodded, real slow and silent like.   
  
"Pony'll be back soon," Soda said again, and I wondered who he was trying to reassure, us or himself. "I'll wait up on him, you two can go back to bed."  
  
Of course, no one moved to leave the room, and so we all just sat there in silence.  
  
Waiting.  
  



	4. Four

**Chapter Four:  
  
  
**"Hey."  
  
I lifted my head as Soda lowered himself down beside me on the couch, a plate carrying two pieces of chocolate cake in his hand. "Hey," I replied quietly, reaching a hand up to run my fingers through my hair. "Darry finally go lay down?"  
  
"Yeah," Soda replied, tearing off a small corner of his cake and popping it in his mouth. "It ain't likely that he'll actually get any sleep, but at least he's restin' now."  
  
I nodded silently as I helped myself to the other piece of cake. I had fallen asleep sometime around five-thirty, unable to keep my eyes open any longer, and Soda had drifted off for an hour or so, but Darry had stayed up the entire night. I woke up once, right around dawn, only to find him still sitting in his armchair, staring at the door as if he expected Ponyboy to walk in at any minute.  
  
And I couldn't help wondering why he hadn't, and every possible reason my panicking mind produced filled my head with terrible images. I hadn't slept well the night before, my sleep had been plagued by memories of the past, of the twisted metal and terrified screams, of waiting by the front door for parents who never came home...  
  
"Ya reckon Pony's comin' back?" I asked at last, voicing the concern that had haunted my restless sleep during the night.   
  
Soda blinked, startled. "Of course he's comin' back," he answered immediately. "He just got upset, that's all. Probably went back to the lot to find Johnny and decided to spend the night there, that's all. He'll be home soon, just wait and see."  
  
I frowned, not missing the pleading undertone to his voice. He didn't really believe that anymore than I did, but he had to hold onto that thought, to that faith that Pony was alright and on his way back to them, because if he lost that...  
  
"I hate this," I muttered. "I hate just sittin' here, no knowin'."  
  
"I know," Soda said quietly, giving me a weak smile. "I hate it, too."  
  
I opened my mouth to reply, when the sounds of footsteps climbing the front porch captured my attention. Soda heard it, too, and we were both on our feet and moving towards the door before the knock sounded. Soda swung open the door, and my blood ran cold at what we found waiting for us outside.  
  
"Good morning, kids," the older of the two police officers said, tipping his hat slightly, his blue eyes serious and grim. "I'm Officer Hendricks, and this is my partner, Officer Jones. We'd like to have a word with you, if you don't mind."  
  
Soda didn't reply right away, so I took the initiative and nodded, gesturing for them to come inside. "Of course," I said, as calmly as possible. I wasn't fond of the police, but they'd never scared me the way they did Soda and Ponyboy. I reckon that's partly because I'm a girl, and the fuzz tend to be nicer to the female population. "Can I get y'all some coffee or anythin'?"   
  
Officer Jones, who didn't look much older than Darry, shook his head, removing his hat as he stepped into the house after his partner. "No, ma'am, but thank you," he said with a sincere smile. "We sure do appreciate the offer."  
  
"What's goin' on?"  
  
I looked up to see Darry emerging from his bedroom, a deep frown marring his face. "Darry," I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. "These officers came by to speak to us."  
  
"What about?" Darry asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture rigid and his face expressionless.  
  
"It's about your brother," Officer Hendricks replied, and I just about lost the feeling in my legs. My hand went to the back of the couch to brace myself, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Soda was looking like he'd just seen a ghost, his face pale and his eyes real wide. Only Darry looked in control, and I figure that's because he's real good at keeping his reactions hidden.  
  
"What about him?" Darry asked, his voice rock steady, even though the tightness of his mouth betrayed his anxiety.  
  
"Maybe we should sit down," Officer Hendricks said quietly, gesturing to the couch. Soda and I both sat wordlessly, and the cops joined us, but Darry remained standing, a hard look on his face that seemed to make Hendricks eager to get on with his job. "Late last night we got a call from a group of boys, saying there'd been an altercation down at the park."  
  
My mouth went dry. Had Ponyboy been jumped again? Oh, Lord, what if he was hurt? What if he was dead?!  
  
"An altercation?" Darry repeated.  
  
"Yes, sir," Hendricks nodded. "Apparently these boys got in in their heads to be drinking, and they ended up out in the park, where they ran into your brother and a buddy of his."  
  
"Johnny," I heard Soda murmur, but I didn't dare take my eyes off of Officer Hendricks.  
  
"Somehow," he continued slowly. "In the fight that broke out between the boys, Mr. Jonathan Cade produced a knife."  
  
My stomach went cold, and I swear I felt my heart stop. Pony and Johnny had been jumped by a bunch of Socs, and Johnny had gone for his blade. I couldn't help remembering when we'd found Johnny in the field all those months ago, lying broken and bleeding in a heap. I'd swung by the DX station on my way home from work, and since Ponyboy was there helping Soda and Steve with the cars, I stuck around for a little bit until they got done, and the four of us were walking back towards the house together when Steve spotted Johnny's jacket laying on the ground. When he went to pick it up, he noticed the blood staining the collar, and his face had gone white as a sheet.  
  
By some miracle, Johnny wasn't dead, and we all heard him moan from across the field. Lord, I've never run so fast in my entire life. Soda got there first, and fell to his knees beside him, rolling him over onto his back as the rest of us reached them. For as long as I live, I won't ever forget what Johnny looked like that day, his swollen face a mess of bruises and cuts, the bloody gash running from his temple to his cheekbone, his white shirt dyed red with his own blood.   
  
Steve had groaned, falling to his knees beside Soda, even as Pony and I stared in disbelief. I must have started to get hysterical, because the next thing I knew Darry was there, putting his arm around me, and Dally and Two-Bit were skidding to a halt at the edge of the scene, their faces etched with horror. None of us had ever seen Johnny that badly hurt, and he'd turned up on our doorstep after more than a few beatings from his father over the years.  
  
From that day on, Johnny Cade never went anywhere without a blade, or without the guts to use it.  
  
"One of the young men, a senior by the name of Robert Sheldon," Hendricks explained. "Was killed in the scuffle."  
  
Oh Lord, did it make me a bad person if I was relieved? If I was grateful that it was this Sheldon kid instead of Ponyboy or Johnny?  
  
"Johnny..." Soda said in a shaky tone, shaking his head in disbelief. "Johnny killed somebody?"  
  
Hendricks nodded. "Yes, son," he answered grimly. "He did."  
  
"What does this have to do with Ponyboy?" I asked, not understanding what they wanted from us.   
  
The two police officers exchanged a glance, and it was Officer Jones who answered, giving me a gentle look as he leaned forward, clasping his hands. "Well, it seems that Ponyboy and Johnny took off after the boys ran. We're here to see if y'all might have any idea where we should start looking."  
  
"No," Darry answered softly. "No, we don't have any idea where they might be headed. They didn't come back here, and Johnny's never even been outside of the neighborhood. I don't reckon they'd have any place to go."  
  
Hendricks frowned, obviously not pleased with his answer. "You're sure? You can't think of any relatives, friends, acquaintances, that they might go to for shelter?"  
  
"We don't have any relatives," Darry responded. "It's just the four of us. And I don't know that either of them knows anyone outside of the city."  
  
"Do you have any idea what Ponyboy was doing out so late?" Jones asked, but there wasn't anything accusatory in his tone.  
  
"We had a fight," I replied before Darry or Soda could, being as vague as possible in my answer. "Ponyboy got upset so he went out for a walk, to cool down for a bit." I lowered my eyes, fidgeting with my hands. "He never came back."  
  
There was a long moment of silence, and then Jones looked at his partner. "I think we've done enough here," he said. "We ought to head back to the station and see what the boys got out of that Winston kid."  
  
We were all real careful about keeping our expression neutral, but my heart skipped a beat at the mention of Dally getting hauled in, and I saw my brother's tense up a little.   
  
Hendricks nodded, and both men rose to their feet. "Well, thank y'all for your help. We appreciate your cooperation on this."  
  
"Not at all," Darry said, moving towards the door to open it for them.   
  
"If you think of anything, anything at all," Jones said, his gaze lingering on me. "Give us a call."  
  
"We will," Darry promised as they slipped outside, and he closed the door behind them. No one moved until we heard the sound of the police car pulling out of the drive, and then we just sat there in shocked silence, letting everything sink in.  
  
"Glory hallelujah," Soda murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Li'l ol' Johnny... he really killed somebody, didn't he?"  
  
"Yeah," Darry agreed quietly. "I reckon he did."  
  
"Dammit," I cursed, closing my eyes tightly, as if that could make it all go away. As if I could open my eyes again to find Ponyboy and Johnny sitting in front of the television, eating cake and drinking Pepsi, watching Mickey Mouse cartoons with Two-Bit.  
  
No one spoke for a few minutes, and I didn't open my eyes again until I heard the door opening. I looked up to see Two-Bit and Steve coming into the living room, their brows furrowed. "We saw the cop car in the drive," Two-Bit explained as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "What's goin' on?"  
  
"Ponyboy and I had a fight last night," Darry answered, his eyes flickering with guilt. "He got upset and ran off to find Johnny. They must have gotten jumped, 'cause the cops say that Johnny killed a Soc with his blade."  
  
Steve's eyes widened, and Two-Bit's unlit cigarette fell from his lips. "Jesus," he cursed under his breath.  
  
"The fuzz are lookin' for them, but they must have cut town," Soda added, looking younger than he was all of the sudden. "Dallas has been hauled in to the station for questionin'."  
  
"Like always," Two-Bit muttered, and I silently agreed with him. It seemed like Dally was always been hauled in for everything that happened in our side of town, whether he had anything to do with it or not.  
  
Steve placed a hand on Soda's shoulder, talking quietly to him, his head lowered so that he could look him in the eye. Soda was nodding absently, only half-listening. Two-Bit and Darry were talking about something to do with Dally, but I couldn't seem to get my mind to focus on anything in particular, so I just stared at nothing, trying not to think about what the police had revealed.  
  
I felt a hand touch my knee and blinked, startled to see Steve kneeling in front of me, looking at me with concern in his dark eyes. "You okay, kid?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," I said, nodding quickly. "I'm okay."  
  
He didn't look like he believed me, but he didn't press it. He just squeezed my knee once then stood, turning his attention to the conversation between Two-Bit and Darry. I got up from the couch and headed back towards my bedroom, keeping my eyes to the floor.  
  
"Where are you going, princess?" Darry asked.  
  
"Got some readin' to do for school," I replied without breaking my stride. "I need to finish it before class."  
  
No one objected, but I could feel their eyes watching me. When I got to my room I shut the door and sat down on my bed, taking a few deep breaths to calm the shaking of my hands. I reached over to my nightstand and lifted my book, running my fingers over the cover in silence. I hadn't lied when I said that I had reading to do, there was still a whole chapter I had to read by tomorrow.  
  
I sat there like that for a long while, but the book remained unopened.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A/N:  
Just a quick note- the weight was a mistake in the last chapter, as some of you may have noticed. It was supposed to say one hundred and fifteen pounds, not one hundred. He he, if she was 100 lbs she'd look like Callista Flockhart, now wouldn't she?


	5. Five

**Chapter Five:  
**  
  
Dinner that night was unusually quiet.  
  
Normally one or two of the boys will eat with us, but tTwo-Bit had gone back to his own house to have supper with his mom and kid sister, and Steve had split, as well, even though he almost always eats with us on the weekend. I kind of think they just wanted to give us some privacy, you know? To let us have some much needed time as family.  
  
Soda, Darry and I sat at the kitchen table, trying not to notice the empty chair at the table. We ate in a grim silence that was only broken by the occasional request for someone to pass the butter or share the milk.  
  
I could practically see the guilt eating away at Darry, but I didn't say anything. Soda and I had both tried telling him it wasn't his fault already, and he'd refused to listen. Sometimes he's as stubborn as a mule, and he wonders where Ponyboy gets it from!  
  
Darry hadn't felt up to cooking a big meal, so we'd settled for sandwiches. I didn't have much of an appetite after hearing what the police had to say, but I forced down two of them, knowing I wouldn't get a chance to eat later. I took our plates to the sink when we were done and go to cleaning them. Soda gave me a hand by getting up to towel them off, and I gave him a grateful smile.  
  
Emma showed up right on time, under the pretense that we were going over to Tessa's to work on a school project. Darry didn't object, just told me to be back at a reasonable time, and I nodded, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as I slipped out the door to join Emma on the porch. She gave me an inquisitive look, but I shook my head, signaling that I didn't want to talk until we were away from the house.  
  
We were about halfway to the diner when I reckon she just couldn't hold back any longer. "I heard about Ponyboy and Johnny," she blurted out, giving me a worried look. "How are ya doin'?"  
  
I almost answered with an automatic fine, but since this was Emma, my best friend, I shrugged and admitted, "Not so tuff."  
  
"I bet," she replied softly. We walked in silence for a few steps, then she eyed me hesitantly, biting her lip the ways she does when she wants to say something, but isn't sure she should.  
  
"Whatever it is ya wanna say, just say it," I said, sharper than I meant to.  
  
Luckily Emma's known me a long time, and she knew me well enough to know I hadn't mean anything by it. "They're sayin' that those Socs were tryin' to drown Ponyboy in the fountain, that they'd have killed him if Johnny hadn't pulled that blade."  
  
My feet stopped of their own accord, and I looked at her in disbelief, but I saw the frightened truth in her eyes. "Where did ya hear that?" I demanded, but my voice came out as barely a whisper. My hands were starting to tremble a little, but I didn't care.   
  
"Some Socs were braggin' about it in town today," Emma replied quietly, obviously wishing she hadn't said anything. "Sayin' how they'd have drowned him real good if Johnny hadn't stabbed that Soc when he did."  
  
Have you ever had one of those moments where it feels like the whole world just seems to stand still? Like your heart's just been swallowed up by a black hole, and the air around you just got darker and colder at the same time? I hadn't thought anything could ever feel worse than when I found out Mom and Dad weren't coming back, but the thought that Pony could have died last night pierced my heart as sharply as any blade could have.  
  
"Oh Lord," I breathed, feeling lightheaded. Pony had almost _died_, and we hadn't even known.   
  
When Mom and Dad were killed, I felt like my whole world had come crashing down around me. They'd just gone out for a drive together and never came back. It'd been their anniversary, and they'd decided to have a little picnic to celebrate, and when they'd left the house they'd been so happy, laughing and smiling.  
  
We'd had no idea that was the last time we were ever going to see them alive.  
  
"Lizzie, I'm sorry," Emma said softly, taking my hand in her own and giving it a good squeeze. "I shouldn't have said anythin'."  
  
"It ain't your fault," I assured her, a quiver in my voice. "I would have heard it around town eventually, anyway. Better to hear it from you than a stranger in the diner."  
  
"Yeah," Emma agreed slowly. "Ya know, Lizzie, maybe ya shouldn't come in tonight. It's been a rough day for ya'll, you should go home and get some rest. Spend some time with your brothers and all."  
  
"No," I shook my head. "Work is good for me right now. I need somethin' to distract me, to keep my mind off of things and all."  
  
"You aure?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied with a nod. "Besides, we need the money. Especially now, with everythin' goin' on."  
  
"Okay, then."  
  
We started walking again, and silence fell between us. I didn't tell Emma, but I had another reason for wanting to go in to the diner for a few hours, one that made me feel kind of selfish. It's just that the last thing I wanted right then was to be at home. As much as I loved Soda and Darry, I just couldn't be around them at the moment, not with so much weighing on my shoulder. There was such a heavy sadness in the house, and so much guilt hanging in the air. I just needed to get away for a while, to clear my head, to just escape the unspoken fears that we were all thinking.  
  
Darry was blaming himself and worrying that Ponyboy hated him now. Soda was scared that Ponyboy might not be coming back. And me? I was kicking myself a hundred times over for not going after him when he ran out of the house, for not ignoring Soda and giving chase to Pony anyway. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently.  
  
When we got to the diner, it was fairly busy, but still it seemed like everyone inside turned to look at me when we came through the door. Some of the girls faltered, surprised to see me, and there was sympathy on their tired faces. I could hear whispering taking place in some of the booths, and I prayed that I didn't get any of those tables.   
  
Stella and Ray emerged from the kitchen, both giving me those looks of parental concern. "I'm here to work," I said.  
  
Ray nodded, wiping his hands on his apron. "I figured as much. Come on back and get dressed, kiddo. You and Emma gave have section two tonight."  
  
"Thanks," I said, smiling weakly in his direction.  
  
He smiled back, then disappeared into the kitchen, and I felt a rush of gratitude for him. Ray was a good guy, the kind of boss who really cared about you, you know? He knew I wanted to get through the night with as little commotion as possible.  
  
About five minutes later I was emerging from the back room, my light blue waitress dress smoothed out nicely, the white collar and cuffs folded flawlessly, and my dark blond hair pulled up into a ponytail that fell just across my shoulders. I offered Emma a smile before heading to my section to take down my first order of the night.  
  
The booth was occupied by a couple of greaser girls, they were about Ponyboy's age, I think and as soon as I reached their table their giggling stopped. "What can I get for you, girls?" I asked.  
  
"You're that Ponyboy kid's sister, ain't ya?" one of them asked, and I rolled my eyes, knowing damn well that she knew that answer already. "Did he and that Cade kid really kill a Soc?"  
  
I sighed, rubbing my forehead.  
  
It was going to be a very long night.  
  



	6. Six

**Chapter Six:  
**  
  
School the next day was even worse.  
  
By then everyone had heard about Bob Sheldon's murder, and it was all anyone was talking about. Sitting in class, I could hear the whispers all around me, could feel the eyes watching me. I tried to ignore it, tried not to let it get to me, and even took it out on my pencils when I couldn't help it.  
  
By the end of my morning classes I had broken all of them.  
  
When the bell rang, I grabbed my books off of the desk and hurried out of the classroom. As I slipped out the door my teacher glanced in my direction and I saw a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. She's a nice lady, Mrs. Graham, the kind who's real good about not judging you by your social standing. Darry had her when he was still in high school.  
  
But if there's one thing I can't stand, it's pity, and so I clenched my teeth and kept my eyes straight ahead as I made my way through the halls as quickly as I could, pretending not to notice how everyone turned to look at me as I walked past.   
  
Pushing open the double doors that led to the parking lot, I stepped out into the bright sunlight, its warmth washing over me. I was so relieved to be out of that building and way from the crowd of nosy students that I didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind me until it was too late.  
  
"Well, well... look what we have here, boys."  
  
I stopped, my arm tightening around my books, holding them against my chest. I scanned the parking lot, hoping to catch the gaze of one of the greasers who were hanging around by their cars, but no one had noticed my predicament yet, and I wasn't about to show weakness by calling for help.  
  
I fight my own battles, even if that means I don't win. Darry is always ragging on me for that, saying my damn pride is going to get me killed one day.  
  
He's probably right.  
  
I turned around to see three Socs standing behind me, all dressed in khakis and button up shirts. "What do ya want?" I demanded, careful to keep my voice indifferent.  
  
"I want a lot of things, honey," one of them, a good-looking jock by the name of Eddie, said with a smirk. "A new Mustang, to win the lottery, a six pack of beer, to pound a few greasers into the ground..."  
  
"What do ya want with me?" I clarified calmly, resisting the temptation to make a snide comment.  
  
"Your brother killed our friend," one of his companions growled.  
  
"Then maybe your friend shouldn't have tried to drown my brother," I retorted, my eyes flashing.  
  
"Watch your mouth, girl!"   
  
"Only if you watch yours, creep," I snapped.   
  
"She's a feisty one, isn't she, boys?" Eddie said, his lips curling up into a hungry sort of grin as his eyes raked me over. I clenched my teeth, my fingers twitching to just deck him in the face. "Maybe we ought to put her in her place, don't you think so, Greg?"  
  
Put me in my place? My lip twitched at that. _Nobody_ puts me in my _place_.   
  
Greg grabbed for me, but I stepped aside quickly, easily avoiding his hands. "Don't touch me," I warned, my tone cool and low, an unspoken threat of what would happen if he did. He was bigger than me, about Dally's build, but I figured I could handle him well enough.  
  
It was his buddies I wasn't so sure of.  
  
"Oh, look at the tough chick," Greg snickered, and when I stepped away from his next lunge, I found Eddie's hand wrapping around my arm. He whirled me about to face him, causing my books to fall to the ground.  
  
"Get your hands off me!" I demanded sharply.  
  
Eddie grinned coldly. "Or you'll do what, baby? Cry?"  
  
He'd asked for it. Lord, Darry was going to skin me, but he'd asked for it. I drew back my fist and slammed it into his pretty-boy nose as hard as I could, and sent him reeling backwards, clutching his face.  
  
"Jesus!" he cursed, his voice sounding nasally, and I had the satisfaction of seeing blood trickling our between his fingers. "She broke my damn nose!"  
  
Greg and his buddy moved towards me, and I spread my feet apart a little, giving myself better balance for the fight that I knew was coming. I'd taken a lot of gymnastics classes when I was younger, that's what gave me such skill on the high dive, and it was beneficial in a fight.  
  
"You're going to regret that, bitch," Greg snarled.  
  
"Now, now," a familiar voice called coolly, and I turned my head to see Steve approaching, his jaw tight and that dangerous look in his eyes. Flanking him were three more of our kind, all with unopened blades in their hands. "There's no need for name callin'."  
  
"Stay out of this grease," the third Soc barked. "Mind your own business!"  
  
"This is my business," Steve retorted coldly, coming to a halt at my side. He glanced down at me for a moment, his brows furrowed as if he was worried, then he looked back at the Socs and scowled. "There's four of us, and three of you," he observed.  
  
"Five," I corrected.  
  
Steve didn't show any reaction, except to correct himself. "Five."  
  
"Like the girl here could do much damage," Greg snorted.  
  
"She broke his nose didn't she?" Steve shot back, nodding at Eddie. "Now ya'll best beat it before we do a lot worse."  
  
Greg and the other Soc eyed the boys nervously, as if trying to decide if they could take them, but they backed off, helping Eddie to his feet. As he staggered off, he shot me a dark glare over his shoulder that I knew meant he wasn't likely to forget this.  
  
I watched them go until they disappeared back into the school, then whirled to glare at Steve. "I could have handled it myself!" I snapped.  
  
Steve's eyes narrowed. "From where I was standin', it sure didn't look like it."  
  
"Your eyesight must be goin', then," I remarked sarcastically as I bent to gather my books. I glanced over at the other boys and flashed a small, but grateful smile. "Thank y'all for helpin' out. I appreciate it."  
  
And I did. I could have taken care of things on my own, but it was sort of comforting knowing that our kind was watching my back, you know?  
  
"How come they get thanked and I get yelled at?" Steve demanded as he led the way back towards his car, where Two-Bit was waiting, flirting with some blonde. I rolled my eyes as we approached, not at all surprised.   
  
"Because I didn't ask for your help," I answered shortly. "That's why."  
  
Two-Bit looked up and grinned at me. "Hey, there, Lizzie-girl. Those apes givin' you a hard time?"  
  
"Nothin' I can't handle," I replied, giving Steve a pointed look out of the corner of my eye. He rolled his eyes in exasperation as he opened the driver's door. I took advantage of Two-Bit's distraction and snagged the front seat.  
  
"Two-Bit, quit your flirtin' and get in the damn car," Steve demanded in annoyance.  
  
Two-Bit complied, giving me a mock glare as he climbed into the back. We drove over to the little neighborhood grocery store that the greasers favored. It was the usual lunchtime hangout for our kind, and Steve parked his car off to the side while Two-Bit headed on inside to grab some Cokes.   
  
I was going to follow but Steve asked me to wait a minute.  
  
"What?" I asked, leaning back into my seat.  
  
"I just wanted to be sure that you're alright," he said, his brows furrowing again. "They didn't hurt ya or nothin', did they?"  
  
I was tempted to ask why he cared, but I didn't. "No," I replied, shaking my head. "They didn't hurt me. They just mouthed off a bit until I decked that guy, and then by the time they made any move against me, ya'll were there to break it up."  
  
"Good," Steve said, nodding, and for a long moment the only noise in the car was the tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel. It was annoying, and I was likely to reach over and break his fingers if he didn't stop soon, but luckily for him, he did. "How are ya holdin' up?" he asked quietly, and I knew he wasn't talking about the Socs anymore.  
  
"I'm okay," I answered with a shrug. "Just a bit stressed out, that's all."  
  
"About Ponyboy?"  
  
I nodded. "I'm worried about him."  
  
"He's a tough kid. He'll be okay."  
  
"He better be," I muttered. "Or I'm gonna skin him good."  
  
Steve chuckled, and I looked up at him, surprised to notice that he had a rather nice laugh. He had rather nice looks, as well, now that I studied him closely. He was tall and wiry, like Soda, with dark hair and dark eyes that flattered his chiseled features.   
  
"You're a pretty tuff kid, you know, that?" he said, flashing me a lopsided grin.  
  
"I ain't a kid," I replied.  
  
"No," Steve agreed, giving me a strange look. "No, ya sure ain't."  
  
There was something in his eyes that I'd never noticed before, something fiery and intense, and it made me want to look away, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze from his. My heart was suddenly pounding and my mouth was dry, and I had absolutely no idea why.  
  
And then Steve's hand was coming up to touch my cheek, brushing a stray strand of dark golden hair away from my face, and my whole body felt tight, like I was being stretched in every direction. His breath touched my lips, and the next thing I knew he was kissing me.  
  
When we pulled apart a moment later, the surprise in his expression mirrored the my own. I blinked, parting my lips, trying to think of something to say, but my mind was all foggy and my heart was racing and I couldn't seem to find my voice.  
  
Steve seemed to be in a similar predicament as he stared at me with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe he had just done that.  
  
As luck would have it, Two-Bit chose that moment to emerge from the store, galloping back to the car and leaning in the window to hand us the Cokes in his hands. "That sure was one good lookin' dame in there," he announced gleefully as he climbed into the back seat and began handing out candy bars.   
  
"I thought you were seein' Kathy this week," Steve mumbled.  
  
_And I thought you were seein' Evie, _I thought darkly, taking a bite out of my chocolate. I'm as much of a chocolate addict as my brothers, but at the moment that candy tasted bitter in my mouth.  
  
"A guy can look, can't he?" Two-Bit retorted with a grin. "Besides, it ain't like Kathy and I are married."  
  
Steve grunted in reply as he started up the car, and I kept my eyes focused out the window for the drive back to school, the car filled with a tense silence that was only broken by Two-Bit's endless chattering.


	7. Seven

**Chapter Seven:**  
  
  
That kiss proved distracting for the rest of the day.  
  
I had a hard time paying attention in my afternoon classes, and more than once the teacher called my name without me noticing, which got a few laughs out of the rest of the class. By the time I made it in to work that afternoon, I didn't know if I was more frustrated with Steve for kissing me in the first place, or with myself for not being able to stop thinking about it.  
  
And I really couldn't help thinking about it. I mean, Steve Randle kissed me! Steve, the boy who used to pull my hair when we were kids, and made fun of me when I first joined the diving team. He was my big brother's best friend, one of the gang.   
  
He had a girlfriend for Pete's sake!  
  
It was a wonder I was able to get the right orders to the right tables, I was so out of it. Emma could tell something was wrong, and had asked if I was okay on the way to the diner, but I hadn't been ready to talk about it yet, so she'd left it alone, doing her best to cover for me when I needed it.  
  
About two hours into my shift, I headed over to one of my tables to take the order of the latest customer and was startled at who I found sitting alone in the booth. "Hey," Soda said quietly, obviously distracted.  
  
I frowned, surprised to see him. The boys occasionally came in to the diner when I was working, but not too often, and certainly never alone. And from the grim look on his face I had a feeling this wasn't a social call.  
  
"Hey," I replied, glancing over my shoulder and catching Stella's eye. I jerked a thumb at Soda, and she nodded, waving me on. I dropped down onto the bench across from my brother, giving him an expectant look. "What are ya doin' here?"  
  
Wordlessly, Soda produced a sleeveless sweathshirt from his lap.  
  
I felt the color drain from my face. "That's Ponyboy's shirt," I said, and Soda nodded. "Where did ya get it?" I demanded.  
  
"I went over to Buck Merril's to talk with Dally," Soda explained slowly, his eyes serious as they bore into my own. "I found this in his room."  
  
He let the words hang in the air between us for a minute, and I pursed my lips as the meaning of what he'd just said sunk in. Ponyboy had been to see Dally that night, which meant that Johnny must have been there, too. "What did he say when ya asked him about it?"  
  
Soda sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "He wouldn't tell me anythin'. He says he doesn't know where they are or nothin', but I know he's lyin'. He wouldn't have just let Johnny take off without some idea of where to find him."  
  
I nodded my agreement. "Well, at least we know they made it out of town okay."  
  
"I reckon so," Soda muttered. "I just wish we could get in touch with Pony, ya know? I hate not knowin' if he's doin' okay or not."  
  
"Me, too," I said softly.  
  
We sat there in silence for a few moments, each wrapped up in our own thoughts. In truth, I was grateful that Soda had come by with this news, it gave me something else to think about other than whether I wanted to punch Steve for kissing me or for ending the kiss too soon.  
  
"Hey, can I borrow that?" Soda asked, shaking me out of my reverie. I followed his gaze to my order pad and shrugged, handing it over. "Thanks," he said, grabbing the pen and holding it in his hand, a thoughtful look on his face.  
  
"What are ya gonna do with it?" I asked.  
  
"Dally's bound to check up on them sooner or later," Soda replied. "I'm gonna write Ponyboy a letter, then give it to Dally. That way when he sees Pony again, he can give it to him for us."  
  
"Ya think Dallas will do it?" I inquired.  
  
Soda shrugged. "I don't see why not. He's tryin' to protect them, that's all. If we don't pester him about where they are, he won't feel like he's being put on the spot or nothin'."  
  
"So what er ya gonna say?" I asked, leaning forward eagerly. "Ya have to tell him that Darry's sorry about what happened, that's for sure."  
  
"Yeah," Soda agreed. "I was plannin' to."  
  
He leaned over the paper and scribbled for a few minutes, so I studied him while he did. He was tired, you could see it in his expression, around his eyes mostly. Pony's disappearance was taking a lot out of us all, but Soda was trying so hard to stay optimistic, for our sakes. I felt a surge of affection for him for that.  
  
"How's this sound?" Soda asked, looking up from his writing and clearing his throat. "Well, I guess you got into some trouble, huh? Lizzie, Darry and me nearly went nuts when ya ran out like that. Darry is awfully sorry he hit you-"  
  
"Add that he didn't mean it," I cut in, and Soda paused to jot that down.  
  
"And then you and Johnny turned up missing and what with the dead kid in the park and Dally gettin' hauled into the station, well it scared us somethin' awful," Soda continued. He frowned, biting his lip the way he usually does when he's trying to think.  
  
"Tell him about the police comin' by the house," I prompted. "They need to know what's goin' on here in town and all."  
  
"Right," Soda agreed, and began to add that in. "I'm gonna put in somethin' about Dally knowin' where they are, but not tellin' us."  
  
"Good," I nodded. "Give ol' Dallas a little guilt if he reads it then."  
  
Soda hunched over, working on the letter for another few minutes before straightening and handing me the finished copy. I read it out loud, so he could hear how it sounded. "Darry hasn't got the slightest notion where you are and it's nearly killin' him. I wish you'd come back and turn yourselves in, but I reckon ya can't since Johnny might get hurt. Ya sure are famous. Ya got a paragraph in the newspaper even. Take care and say hi to Johnny for us."  
  
"Well?" Soda asked. "What do ya think?"  
  
I handed the notebad back to him. "Looks good to me."  
  
"Anythin' else we should add?" Soda wondered aloud. "Has anythin' interestin' or unusual happened since he's been gone?"  
  
I felt my cheeks flush at the memory of the kiss Steve and I had shared, but thankfully Soda wasn't looking at me, so he didn't notice. I could just imagine how well the news that his best buddy had kissed his sister would go over, and it wasn't pretty.  
  
"Nah," I replied. "I think that's everythin'."  
  
"Okay, then," Soda said, ripping off the top sheet and handing me back my notepad. "Thanks, Lizzie. I should probably get goin', I've got work in a bit."  
  
"Is Steve workin' with ya tonight?" I asked, strictly because I wanted to know if there was a chance of Soda finding out about that kiss. It wasn't like I was asking about him for the sake of asking or anything.   
  
"Nope," Soda said with a lopsided grin. "He's got a date with Evie."  
  
I struggled to keep my expression even, despite the fact that my stomach turned over at those words. "Figures," I muttered.   
  
"Yeah, what can I say," Soda drawled. "Steve's a lover, not a worker."  
  
I snorted in disgust. "I thought that was you, Sodapop."  
  
Ignoring my jibe, Soda bent and placed a kiss on my cheek as he slid out of the booth. "Play nice, Sis. I'll see ya back at the house."  
  
"Yeah," I replied, standing and straightening my white apron. "Don't be late, okay? I'm gonna try and scrape together somethin' that resembles an actual meal."  
  
"Sure thing," Soda promised, starting for the door. He paused as he was opening it and turned to give me a grin. "Make enough, okay? I reckon Steve might drop by and eat with us tonight."  
  
I kept the forced smile on my face until he disappeared out into the parking lot, and then sighed, shaking my head. I hoped Steve decided not to show, but with my luck he would.  
  
Throwing down my notepad, I made a decision and marched over to the table that Emma was waiting on, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her off to the side. "What is it?" she asked. "What-"  
  
"Steve kissed me today at lunch," I said bluntly, cutting her off.  
  
Emma's eyes widened. "Steve did what?" she cried, a little too loudly. People turned to look at us, and I glared at her. "Sorry," she whispered. "Steve kissed you? What did you do? What did he say? What did _you_ say?"  
  
"I didn't really do anythin'," I replied. "I was in shock. And neither of us said anythin', because Two-Bit came back out to the car right after."  
  
Emma was quiet for a long moment, and then her lips twitched slightly. "I just have one thing to say to that," she announced.   
  
"Oh, yeah?" I said. "What's that?"  
  
"Can I be there when Soda finds out?" Emma grinned. "I've always wanted to see Steve get his tail whipped."  
  



	8. Eight

**Chapter Eight:  
**  
  
There was some new gossip at school the following day, this time having nothing to do with Ponyboy or Johnny or Bob Sheldon's murder.  
  
It hadn't surprised me much to see Mikey waiting in the halls with Emma and Tessa, ever since he and Tess had started going steady he'd been showing up more and more often for classes. I reckon she's been having a good affect on the boy and all.  
  
What did surprise me was the reason Mikey had shown up that day. It wasn't to go to class, or even to see Tessa. It was to let us girls know what had gone down the night before.  
  
It seems Curly got into a bit of scuffle with his old man, and, as so many of our boys tend to do, he let out his frustrations by knocking over a gas station.   
  
That bugged me real bad for the rest of the day. I mean, I know Curly's a hood, I know he's always going to be a hood. He's been in juvie more times than anyone in town. But I couldn't help feeling sad every time something like this happened. He was a good kid, deep down. If circumstances had been different, if life had treated him kinder, he might very well have made something of himself one day.  
  
It wasn't fair, but, as Darry was reminding me all the time, life isn't fair.  
  
I got through my classes okay, even though we had a surprise quiz in math. I did fairly well on it, especially given the fact that I had about a hundred other things on my mind that had nothing to do with mathematics.  
  
There was still a lot of talk about Ponyboy and Johnny, though, and a bunch of kids had the newspaper out at lunch. Emma, Tessa and I ate in the cafeteria, something we hardly ever do. I didn't explain why I wanted to stay at school, but I reckon they knew anyway. Emma had filled Tessa in about the kiss that morning, so she was just as curious about what it meant, but I didn't have any answers.  
  
I'm sure the boys were surprised when I didn't meet them out at the car for lunch, it's been almost a religion for our gang since the start of high school, but I had a feeling Steve didn't sit around the parking lot waiting on me. He's a smart boy, when I wasn't there by the time the other cars had pulled out, he probably realized I wasn't coming.  
  
I couldn't help wondering if he was relieved by that or not.  
  
A lot of Socs kept throwing glances in our direction, particularly Eddie and his buddies, but we didn't get any trouble. I guess I got lucky, since he didn't report me to the principal for breaking his nose. Then again, from what I heard around school it had been pointed out to him that if he did file a complaint, he'd have to admit that he was harassing me. Our principal is a pretty okay guy, but he's always been real hard on boys who pick on the female students. Something happened to his sister a long time ago, or so the rumors say.   
  
Whatever the truth was, I was just glad that it kept Darry from receiving a phone call. If he'd found out about that, he'd have skinned me good. Right after Mom and Dad died I was constantly getting into fights at school, and that really made Darry angry, because he was trying so hard to keep this family together, and I sure wasn't helping by getting sent to the principal's office on a daily basis. I couldn't really help it, though, there was just so much grief bottled up inside of me and I didn't have any other way of dealing with it. I'd promised Darry he'd never get another call about me fighting, and by some miracle I'd been able to keep my word.  
  
Needless to say, by the time I got home I was exhausted. I was ready to just sprawl out on my bed and sleep for the entire night. Of course, that wouldn't go over too well with Darry, and I had to eat, so I was willing to settle for a good few hours of napping.  
  
As soon as I stepped into the living room, though, I knew I wasn't even going to get that.  
  
"Soda?" I asked softly, surprised to see my brother sitting on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his head buried in his hands. My heart lodged in my throat, and it felt like the whole world was spinning out of control around me. Soda had work today, and he wouldn't have missed it unless something awful had happened.  
  
_Oh God,_ I thought, struggling to keep my breathing steady. _Please, not Ponyboy...  
  
_"Sodapop?" I called again, since he didn't seem to hear me the first time.  
  
His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't raise his head. "What are ya doin' home?" he asked quietly, and I could tell he'd been crying. His voice was hoarse and shaky, sounding like it might wilter at any moment.  
  
"I just got back from school," I replied, resisting the urge to return his own question on him. "I had a long day and I've got homework so I decided to come straight home instead of going over to the DX station with Two-Bit and Steve."  
  
That wasn't a complete lie, I did have a lot of homework and I was completely beat, but the main reason I hadn't gone was that I'd been doing my best to avoid Steve Randle all day. I just didn't think Soda needed to hear that, especially not right now that something was obviously wrong.  
  
"I should probably call him," Soda muttered, and I knew he was talking about Steve. "He'll wonder why I'm not at work when he gets there."  
  
He reached for the phone, but I placed a hand on his arm, stilling his movement. "Tell me what's going on, Soda," I implored gently, but with an urgency in my tone that couldn't be helped. He was scaring me, and it was all I could do to keep my composure at the moment. I hadn't seen him this shaken since the weeks after Mom and Dad died, and if something had happened to Ponyboy I didn't think I could stand it.  
  
Soda didn't answer right away, and for a long moment I thought he wasn't going to, but just as I was getting ready to storm over to the phone and call Darry, he decided to speak.  
  
"It's Sandy."  
  
I settled back onto my heels in front of him, the tightness in my chest easing in relief that this troubling news had nothing to do with Ponyboy. Girl troubles I could handle easily enough. "What about her?" I asked. "Ya'll get into a fight or somethin'?"  
  
He lifted his face and I knew at once it was more than that. His cheeks were pale, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and for the first time I noticed that his knuckles were bleeding a little. My insides turned cold, and I was dreading what he had to say next.  
  
"She's pregnant," Soda rasped.  
  
My eyes widened in disbelief, and my lips parted in shock. Sandy was pregnant? How was that possible? I mean, I _know_ how it's possible, it's just... I was in shock.  
  
"Wanna know the worst part?" Soda asked, giving a bitter laugh. "It's not mine."  
  
My stomach dropped to the floor at that, and I stared at Soda in horrified disbelief. Sandy had cheated on him? How was that possible, the girl adored him?! But the look of despair in his eyes told me this was really happening, and I couldn't help wondering if maybe I'd seen the devotion in Soda's eyes for Sandy, and just assumed Sandy felt the same.  
  
"Oh, Soda..." I breathed, at a loss for words.  
  
"I told her that didn't matter," Soda gasped out, his voice quivering with barely containted sobs. "I told her I still loved her and that I wanted to marry her anyway, but she's leaving..."  
  
"For where?" I asked softly, falling back on the gentle tone that Mom always used to use when us kids were upset about something. "Where's she goin'?"  
  
"To live with her grandmother in Florida," Soda answered, his voice almost to the breaking point now. "She's leavin' tonight."  
  
I bit my lip, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry, Sodapop," I said softly, my eyes stinging with tears. Not over Sandy, although I was plenty upset about her betrayal of my brother, but because it seemed like my family was always suffering. I wanted to take away the pain he was going through, I wanted to bear it myself to keep it from him, but I couldn't.   
  
God, I wished Mom was there at that moment. She would know what to say, she would know how to make things better. She always did.  
  
But I wasn't Mom, no matter how hard I tried to be. I was just me, just Elizabeth Anne Curtis, and for the life of me I had no idea what to do for my hurting brother short of kicking Sandy's ass, and somehow I didn't think that would make Soda feel any better.  
  
"I love her, Lizzie," Soda whimpered, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I love her so much."  
  
"I know, baby," I said, wrapping my arms around him. I held him tightly for a long moment, my chest heavy. After a few minutes I pulled back, my eyes going to his injured hand. I didn't ask what had happened to it, I didn't need to. I'd seen the gang bust open their knuckles plenty of times by punching walls in anger, and it was obvious that was what had happened. "Let me clean that up for you, okay, baby?"  
  
Soda didn't reply, but he didn't protest either, and so I pushed to my feet and disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the First Aid kit. I knelt in front of him, gently cleaning the cuts on his hands with the tenderness that Mom used to display when she would clean up our injuries, letting him recompose himself.   
  
His hands weren't as bad as they had looked, they wouldn't need bandaging, after all. Still, I felt better having cleaned his knuckles off, at least I'd been able to do _something_ for him.  
  
When I was finished, I rose to my feet and started towards the kitchen to return the First Aid kit to its place in the drawer, when Soda quietly called my name.  
  
"Yeah, sweetheart?" I asked.  
  
"Thanks," was all he said, but it was sincere and heartfelt, and it encompassed more than an entire monologue could have.  
  
"You're welcome," I replied, forcing a bright smile on my face. "After all, what are sisters for?"


	9. Nine

**Chapter Nine:**  
  
  
It was late when Darry got home.  
  
I was sitting on the front steps waiting on him. Soda had finally fallen asleep, exhausted after the stress of the emotional day, and I had decided to go outside to get some fresh air. It was a fairly warm evening, and the sky overhead was clear and the stars burned bright and strong, but I barely noticed.  
  
I felt numb. Soda was suffering and I didn't know how to make his pain go away. Ponyboy was gone, and I had no idea where he was or if he was okay. Mom and Dad were dead, and I couldn't bring them back. How many more times was our family going to suffer?  
  
I watched as he parked the truck and got out of the driver's seat, the gravel of the driveway crunching under the tread of his worn boots. He was wearing dark jeans and a gray wife-beater tank top under an opened red and black checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked tired and sweaty and dusty, like he'd just worked himself to the bone.  
  
Knowing Darry he probably had.  
  
He started towards the house, and I saw a flicker of surprise when he saw me, and he frowned worriedly as he came to stop in front of me. "What's goin' on?" he asked without preamble.   
  
"It's Soda," I replied, so he could let go of the fear I knew he was experiencing at the thought that I had some grim news about Ponyboy.   
  
"What about him?" Darry asked, shifting his construction belt over his shoulder and giving me a look that was so like Mom it was scary.  
  
"Sandy left town," I said quietly, lowering my eyes to the ground. Better to get it all out at once. "She's pregnant with another boy's child, and her parents are shippin' her down to live with her grandmother. Soda wanted to marry her anyway, but she didn't want to marry him."  
  
There was a long silence, and so I lifted my head to see Darry's face had gone blank, his eyes distant and hollow. He was absorbing what I'd said and, being Darry, showing absolutely no reaction to it at all. I waited patiently for him to say something, to tell me what to do to make things better.  
  
"Go on into the kitchen and wait for me," he ordered softly after a few moments, starting up the steps. "I'll be right in."  
  
I followed him back into the house and watched as he tossed his belt down on the couch, then headed for Soda's room. I almost told him that he was sleeping, then thought better of it. If Darry wouldn't wake him unless he really needed to.  
  
Instead, I turned and made my way into the kitchen, pulling out a chair and seating myself at the table. I sat there for a few moments, drumming my fingers on the table-a habit my brothers and I inherited from Dad-before letting my thoughts wander away from Soda and Sandy.  
  
I thought about Ponyboy and Johnny on the run from the law, I thought about how much easier everything was back when Mom and Dad were still alive, but mostly I thought about Steve. I couldn't help it, really, he'd been consuming my thoughts a lot lately, because of that damn kiss.   
  
What the hell had he been thinking?! He had a girlfriend, and I was his best friend's little sister! If Evie didn't kill him, Soda sure as hell would. I should want to kill him, too, for pulling a stunt like that, but for some reason I didn't.  
  
_Good Lord, _I thought with a groan. _That boy is goin' to be the death of me.  
  
_A few minutes later Darry came into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of chocolate milk before taking a seat beside me at the table. He looked, if possible, even more exhausted than he had when he'd first gotten home.  
  
"How's he doin'?" I asked softly.  
  
"Not too good," Darry replied grimly. "If she wasn't a lady, I'd ring Sandy's neck for what she did to him."  
  
"She's no lady," I scowled. "And hell, I'll ring her neck myself if I get half the chance."  
  
Darry smiled faintly as he took a gulp of his milk. "I reckon you would. You're a feisty little thing, you know that? Got a real fiery temper on you, that's for sure."  
  
"And?" I asked, not sure where he was going with this.  
  
"That ain't always a bad thing," he stated evenly. "It's gotten you out of a scrap or two before, and it tends to keep trouble at a distance most of the time, but it can be a real hassle, too, Lizzie."  
  
"For you, you mean," I finished knowingly.  
  
"Yeah," Darry nodded. "For me, and for Soda and Pony. For the whole gang, really. Whenever anybody tries to help you, you lash out at 'em like they just walloped you good."  
  
"You've been talkin' to Steve, haven't you?" I demanded, gritting my teeth.  
  
"No," Darry said slowly, giving me a puzzled look. "Two-Bit told me that you got a bit angry with ol' Steve for backin' you in a scuffle with a couple of Socs yesterday, though."  
  
"Two-Bit ought to learn to keep his trap shut," I muttered darkly.  
  
"Like that'll ever happen," Darry said wryly. He frowned, giving me an appraising look. "You get into a tiff with Steve about somethin' other than him steppin' in durin' that fight?"  
  
For a moment I had the insane notion that somehow Darry knew about the kiss, but it passed as quickly as it came. I hadn't told anyone but Emma and Tessa about that, and there was no way in hell Steve would have told Darry. He might be stupid, but he didn't have a death wish.  
  
"When am I not worked up about somethin' against him?" I retorted, and Darry nodded his agreement, writing it off as just another one of our little spats.  
  
"What I was tryin' to say, though, Lizzie, is that things are real rough right now," Darry explained. "In order to make things work we're goin' to all have to make some sacrifices."  
  
"And you think me not lettin' my temper get the best of me so much will help?" I concluded.  
  
"Yeah, I do," Darry said. "Look, I don't expect you and Steve to quit your squabblin', ya'll have been that way for as long as I can remeber, but it's be nice if you could try not to snap at the rest of us so much, especially me and Soda and Pony. We're all hurtin', and anything we can do to make things easier, we need to do."  
  
I raised an eyebrow curiously. "You gonna take your own advice?"  
  
"If you mean am I gonna try to lighten up on you three, the answer is no." I opened my mouth to protest, but Darry silenced me with a look. "I reckon I can try to be more patient with you guys, though."  
  
"And maybe not yell so much, huh?" I prompted.  
  
Darry smiled. "Yeah, and maybe not yell so much."  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me," I replied, flashing him a smile in return.  
  
"Good," he said. "There's somethin' else I wanted to talk to you about, though. It's about work."  
  
It took all of my composure not to flinch at that statement. Had he somehow found out that I'd been pulling doubles at the diner? Lord, I hoped not. For one thing I'd be in for it, but more importantly that money meant a lot to me. Not in the traditional sense, of having money to spend, though that would be nice, but in the sense that it represented a better future. Not just for me, but for my brothers.   
  
"Oh?" I asked evenly.  
  
"Yeah. I'm goin' to be workin' pretty late for the rest of the week to earn some extra cash," Darry informed me. "I reckon we're goin' to need it if we're gonna straighten out this mess with Ponyboy once we find him."  
  
I bit my lip, surprised to hear him talking like that. Ever since th epolice had shown up on Sunday morning, he'd been avoiding talking about Pony when he could, and when he couldn't all he'd done was mutter about how it was his fault.   
  
_Maybe seein' Soda hurtin' gave him a good shakin' in more way than one, _I thought.  
  
"So I'm gonna need you to take care of dinner until the weekend, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing," I nodded. "I'll make sure there's enough cake for breakfast, too."  
  
"Thanks, sweetheart," Darry said with a relieved sigh. "I really appreciate it."  
  
"No problem," I assured him, pushing to my feet to head back to my room and finish up my homework. I kissed his cheek, earning a smile in return, then slipped out of the kitchen, leaving Darry to himself.  
  
As I opened my bedroom door I paused, glancing back at him, and found him leaning back in his chair, shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and my heart went out to him.  
  
_Don't worry, Darry, _I thought determinedly. _We'll keep this family together, no matter what.  
_  
  



	10. Ten

**Chapter Ten:  
**  
  
It's a good thing Sandy wasn't at school the next day, or I'd have likely bashed her head into a locker or something. Luckily for her, her parents had decided she was leaving for Florida immediately, so she was on a train down to Orlando while I was sitting in science class glaring at her empty seat.  
  
The day went by slowly, and between the whispering and not so subtle glances in my direction, I could tell that they were talking about Ponyboy again.  
  
By the time I got home, I was exhausted and would have liked nothing more than to just curl up in bed and go to sleep, but, of course, that wasn't an option. I had work this afternoon, just like I did most afternoons nowadays, so I dragged myself off to the couch and tugged on my waitress uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles.   
  
I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing my hair back into a ponytail when I heard the front door open. Securing the tie around my hair, I stepped out of the bathroom expecting to see Two-Bit waiting to give me a ride.  
  
Instead I found myself face to face with Steve.  
  
"Oh," I said in surprise. "Hi."  
  
"Hi," Steve said, shifting uncomfortably. "Uh, Two-Bit's takin' Kathy to the movies, so he asked me to swing by and give ya a lift over to the diner on my way down to the DX station."  
  
"Okay," I replied, avoiding his gaze as easily as he avoided mine. "Um, yeah, just let me get my coat then."  
  
"Right."  
  
I disappeared into my room, grabbing my coat off of my bed, and turned to the mirror, taking a moment to smooth my hair, just in case, before joining Steve out in the living room. He was leaning against the door, gaze to the floor and fidgeting in the way he did when he was nervous.  
  
"All set," I reported, and he nodded, opening the door. He held it open for a moment, as if he was waiting for me to go through, then seemed to realize what he was doing and hurried outside with a scowl on his face.  
  
I shook my head, sighing as I followed.   
  
The drive to the diner was quiet and tense, though not as intense as the drive back to school after the stolen kiss we'd shared. I kept my gaze trained out the window and let my thoughts drift to Ponyboy. I missed him, you know? Not just because he was my little brother, but because he was real good at figuring things out, and I figured that the mess between me and Steve was in major need of figuring out.  
  
If I'd been paying attention, I would have noticed that Steve kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and that his fingers were clenching the steering wheel a little tighter than usual.  
  
But I wasn't paying attention, and so when we pulled into the diner parking lot and I reached for the door handle only to find it locked, I was startled. "Ya wanna let me out?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah, in a minute," Steve said distractedly, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to figure something out.   
  
"Look," I said impatiently. "I gotta get to work, so unless there's somethin' that ya wanna say to-"  
  
My protest was cut short by a kiss that took me completely by surprise, and yet somehow I should have known it was coming. For a long moment I lost myself in his kiss, in the soft lips pressed against mine, in the soaring sensation that washed over me, and then reality set in.  
  
Steven Randle was kissing me.  
  
Again.  
  
_Dammit, _I thought with a groan, and pressed my palms against his chest, pushing him off of me. "Steve, stop," I ordered. "We can't do this."  
  
"You're right," Steve replied, his gaze lowering to avoid mine. "Lord, I don't know what I was thinkin'... you're just a kid."  
  
"I ain't a kid, ya jerk," I snapped, my eyes blazing. "That's not what I'm talkin' about. You're with Evie! Or did ya forget about her?"  
  
"No," Steve sighed, blowing out a long hiss of air. "No, I didn't forget about her. I just... I wasn't thinkin'. I couldn't help it. I just wanted to kiss ya and..."  
  
"And so ya did," I finished quietly.  
  
"Yeah," he agreed. "And so I did."  
  
I'm not normally a real quiet person, in fact, Darry used to joke around that I talked more than a politician, but he hasn't said that in a long time. After Mom and Dad died, and Ponyboy started to talk less, I reckon that the more I talked, the less silence there was to haunt us all, you know?   
  
And I'm definitely not the kind of girl who has trouble with words, I always know what needs to be said when no one else does, but right then I had no idea what _could _be said, much less what needed to be.  
  
"What does all this mean then?" I asked softly, not looking up from studying my apron. "I mean, ya can't just keep kissin' me whenever ya feel like it, Steve. So what are we goin' to do about all this?"  
  
"I dunno," Steve replied with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his dark curls. "Lord, I dunno what's happenin' here. I'm seein' Evie. She's wearin' my damn ring!"  
  
"Steven?" I said softly. "Why did ya kiss me?"  
  
There was an uneasy pause and for a minute I thought he wasn't going to answer, but he did. "I dunno," he admited quietly. "I reckon it's just that I can't seem to stop noticin' things about you lately, and when you're around that's all I can think about."  
  
"What things?" I asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he demanded. "Glory, I mean, you were always a cute kid, but all of the sudden it's like you're not a little girl anymore, and you're not just cute now, you're a real doll. It's confusin' as hell, I mean, you're Sodapop's kid sister, but..."  
  
"But?" I prompted, biting my lip.  
  
"But I can't seem to get ya out of my head," he confessed with a groan.   
  
Despite myself, a part of me felt giddy at that announcement, and a faint smile touched the corners of my mouth before I smothered it out. "I see," I said quietly. "Well, the way I see it, you've got two options here, Steve."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"We can either pretend none of this ever happened and go back to the way things were," I said, ignoring the snort he gave at that idea. "Or you can figure out what it is ya want and we can see where things go from there."  
  
I reached over him and unlocked my door, then lifted the handle and started to slide out of the car, but stopped when I felt his hand touch my elbow.  
  
"What is it that you want, then?" he inquired curiously.  
  
"I want my life to make sense again," I informed him as I stepped out onto the gravel parking lot. "Thanks for the ride, I'll see you later."  
  
I shut the car door and walked to the diner, glancing back as I pushed open the door.  
  
Steve was watching me, a thoughtful look on his face, and then he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
Shaking my head, I slipped inside and headed into the back to clock myself in.  
  
It was going to be another one of those days.


	11. Eleven

**Chapter Eleven:**  
  
  
"You know," Emma commented as we walked along the sidewalk, tugging her jacket closer to protect her from the evening chill. "Now that we've gotten rid of Sandy, all we have to do is get rid of that tramp Evie and we'll be set."  
  
"Oh?" I asked, giving her a sideways glance. "How so?"  
  
"Well," she explained. "It turns out Sandy was two-timin' your brother, so it's good riddance to her-"  
  
"I'll say," I muttered darkly, kicking a loose pebble with my foot.   
  
"And Steve could do much better than Evie," Emma continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "In fact..." she gave me an appraising glance, raising her eyebrow mischievously.  
  
"Don't even go there," I warned.   
  
Emma laughed, shrugging as she tossed her dark ponytail over her shoulder. "Why not? It's the truth, and you know it. You dig him, and he digs you."  
  
"It doesn't matter," I insisted firmly. "I'm not some little girl with a crush, Emma, I ain't gonna go chasin' after him like that. If he thinks there's somethin' between us that's worth makin' a go for, then he'll have to make that call."  
  
"Oh, I think it's safe to say that Mr. Steven Randle's gonna be callin' on you sometime soon, dear," Emma chuckled. "He's quite taken with ya, in case ya haven't noticed."  
  
"Mmm," I murmured in reply, but the truth was, I had noticed. Guys don't just go around randomly kissing their best friend's sister unless there's something there. Still, this wasn't as simple as Emma liked to make it seem. Maybe Steve was just going through a rough patch with Evie, or maybe he was just attracted to me. Wouldn't be the first boy who'd gotten it in his head that he wanted me, probably wouldn't be the last.  
  
Of course, with three protective brothers, it's a wonder I've ever had a date at all.  
  
Things with Steve were tense, if only because there was a lot on the line. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of any discord among the gang, especially between Steve and Soda.   
  
One of the things I like most about Emma is that she's real perceptive, and right then she could tell I didn't really want to think about Steve Randle. "How's Darry holdin' up?" she asked instead.  
  
I flashed her a grateful half-smile. "He's doin' better," I replied. "Sandy leavin' gave him a new problem to focus on, so bein' able to take care of Soda and fuss over him has let him keep his mind off of Ponyboy some, but I know he's worryin' himself to death about the kid."  
  
"Yeah," Emma said softly. "I miss that little son of a gun."  
  
"Me, too," I said with a weak smile. "But at least he's got Johnny with him. The two of them ought to be able to keep each other out of trouble."  
  
"We hope," she said with a smirk. "Don't forget about that time they accidentally lit their shoes on fire when they dropped those candles."  
  
"Ugh," I groaned, shaking my head as we rounded the corner of the vacant lot. "Don't remind me."  
  
"Oh, boy," Emma muttered, coming to a stop and blowing out a long hiss of air.  
  
"What?" I asked, frowning. "What is it?"  
  
Wordlessly, Emma nodded towards the lot, and I turned to see a cluster of greasers, among them a few familiar faces. "Is he over there?" I asked, not daring to look in case he was.  
  
"Yeah," she nodded grimly. "Sorry to tell you, but he is."  
  
"Damn," I cursed. "C'mon, let's keep walkin'. Maybe they won't see us."  
  
Of course they did, though, and a moment later I heard Two-Bit call out my name, and had no choice but to head over to join them. As we approached the crowd of boys leaning around on their cars, I was careful to avoid looking at Steve, focusing instead on Two-Bit and Dally, who were sitting on the hood of Tim Shepard's car, smoking and drinking.   
  
"Hey, ya'll," I said, accepting the cigarette that Dally offered and letting him light it for me before putting it to my lips and taking a long, slow drag. I glanced over at Two-Bit and nearly dropped my cigarette when I saw the bruise on his cheek. "What happened to you? Ya run into a door or somethin'?"  
  
"Got jumped," Two-Bit replied simply.  
  
"Glory," I muttered, touching a hand to his cheek to check for swelling.  
  
"Aww, wasn't bad," Two-Bit assured me with a cocky grin. "I was handlin' those bums just fine, and Darry and ol' Dal here came along quick enough, so it was a pretty clean deal."  
  
"Dammit," I seethed, shaking my head. "This is gettin' out of hand."  
  
"Don't worry your pretty little head any, kid," Dally waved dismissively, confident that he could handle anything that came up. "We'll take care of it."  
  
"How, Dallas?" I snapped. "By killin' every Soc that comes along?"  
  
"Hey, they come lookin' for a fight, I ain't gonna back off," Dally said sharply, his eyes flashing, and I couldn't help thinking how unfair it was that life had made him so hard, so bitter. "And speakin' of which, what the hell do ya two think you're doin' walkin' alone? Don't ya got any sense?"  
  
"Apparently not, since I'm still hangin' out with you," I shot back with a scowl.   
  
Dally raised an eyebrow at that, but let it go. Dallas Winston may be a tough hood but he's not all bad, you know? Part of me was touched that he was concerned about my safety, but at the moment I was more annoyed than anything, and he knew that.  
  
He was backing off now because I was exhausted, but he'd probably tell Darry that I'd walked from the diner later, just to spite me. For now, though, he changed the subject in a way that only he could.  
  
"Nice get up, though, doll," he said with a sly grin, his eyes raking me over. "Darrel know you're out here walkin' the streets dressed like that?"   
  
I rolled my eyes and grabbed his leather jacket off of the car, slipping it on over my waitress uniform. "Can it, Dallas," I said irritably. "I'm tired, okay?"  
  
"Long day waitin' tables, kid?" Two-Bit asked.  
  
I glanced in Steve's direction, just as he looked up, and for a minute our gazes met before we both looked away. "Ya could say that," I replied vaguely.  
  
Dally's eyes narrowed and he looked from Steve to me then back again, a thoughtful gleam in his cold blue eyes. Before he could say anything, though, the rumble of an approaching car drew attention to the other side of the lot.  
  
Pulling in was a tuff looking Sting Ray convertible, and though we were too far away to see the face of the girl driving, the flaming red hair was a sure giveaway.  
  
"What's this?" Tim grunted, nodding at Cherry Vallance as she stepped out of her car.  
  
"The dead kid's girl, man," one of his boys growled. "She's a Soc."  
  
"That's kind of obvious, don't ya think, genius?" Emma muttered, and he shot her a nasty look, which she returned with one of her own.  
  
"I say we jump her, man," the guy said, turning back to Tim.   
  
"Are ya insane?" I demanded. "She's just a girl!"  
  
"So?" Tim snapped. "The Socs don't have a problem jumpin' our girls, why should we have a problem jumpin' theirs?"  
  
"Because it ain't right, that's why," I snapped heatedly. "And so help me, Shepard, if you lay one hand on that girl..."  
  
Tim didn't respond, giving me an evaluating look. I shifted uneasily, wondering if he was debating how much damage I could actually do, but I was saved from finding out when Two-Bit stepped up beside me. "Look, man, Cherry's an okay girl. Let's just hear what she has to say, alright?"  
  
Tim gave a silent nod of agreement, and Two-Bit moved forward to meet Cherry as she approached. "Hey there, Cherry," he called.  
  
"Curly was right," Tim told me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You've got nerves of steel."  
  
"Hi, Two-Bit," Cherry said with a faint smile.   
  
"Well, well," Dally drawled, swinging his legs over the edge of Tim's car and standing up. "Look who it is."  
  
"Nice to see you, too, Dallas Winston," Cherry said coldly, but there was something in her eyes that suggested the coldness wasn't heartfelt, at least not completely.  
  
"What's up?" Two-Bit asked her.  
  
"I just came by to let you guys know that I'm going to testify for Ponyboy and Johnny," she told him, and I blinked in surprise. "I mean," she looked down, wringing her hands. "I feel like this is all my fault, you know? So I'm going to tell the judge that Bob and the others were drunk, and went looking for a fight, that Ponyboy and Johnny had to fight back in self-defense."  
  
"Why do you wanna do that?" Dally asked incredulously, and I rolled my eyes again. Leave it to Dally to not understand why someone would want to do the right thing.  
  
"Because it's the right thing to do," Cherry snapped. "Not that I'd expect you to understand that."  
  
"We really appreciate that," I told her, and her gaze softened as it shifted in my direction.   
  
"It's the least I can do," she said quietly.  
  
"There anythin' else?" Dally asked, blowing smoke in her face.   
  
She glared at him, but didn't respond to him, instead facing Two-Bit again. "I heard there's going to be a big fight this weekend, between the Socs and the Greasers."  
  
"Yeah," Two-Bit nodded. "You heard right."  
  
"I'll keep up with what's coming from our end, then," she offered, folding her arms over her chest. "And I'll let you know what I find out."  
  
"Thanks, Cherry," Two-Bit said, flashing her one of the most sincere smiles I've ever seen from him. "That'd be a big help."  
  
Cherry glanced at me again, biting her lip. "I hope Ponyboy's alright," she said softly, and I could tell she really did.   
  
"I'm sure he is," I said with a forced smile. "He's a tough kid."  
  
She nodded, and started back towards her car, and Dally started to follow her. He draped an arm over her shoulder, grinning cockily. "How about I take you over to the Dingo and buy you a Coke, baby?"  
  
"No thank you," Cherry snapped, pushing his arm off of her.  
  
"Aww, c'mon, doll..."  
  
"Go to hell," she said hotly, and hurried off to her car.   
  
I watched her for a moment, then followed, waving off the inquires from the others. Cherry was just climbing into her car when I caught up to her, and she gave me a curious look as she opened the door and climbed in. "I just wanted you to know," I said breathlessly. "I'm sorry about Bob."  
  
She was silent for a long moment, her eyes judging my sincerity, but then she smiled, a sad, shaky smile. "Thank you," she replied.   
  
As I watched her drive off, I couldn't help wondering how I would feel if I were in her shoes. If it had been my boyfriend killed by her brother. Would I have been so understanding? So accepting and kind about it all?  
  
I didn't know, and I hoped I never had to find out.  
  



	12. Twelve

**Chapter Twelve:**  
  
  
School proved to be a good distraction the next day, and I busied myself with the assignments my teachers handed out, focusing solely on the work so that I didn't have to think about the important stuff, because the important stuff always seemed to be the hard stuff.  
  
Like what was going on between me and Steve.  
  
Like whether or not my little brother was ever coming home.  
  
Like whether or not the state was going to take Darry's custodial rights away.   
  
It was the last one that really had me worried, and I knew it had Soda and Darry worried, too. Well, Darry, anyway, Soda didn't really worry much about anything. He still held firm to the belief that whatever happened, he and Steve and Darry could handle it. I gave up that kind of thinking about Mom and Dad died.  
  
Darry's not the kind of guy to tell you what he's thinking, though, not like Pony who'll tell you everything that passes through his head if he's comfortable talking to you. Darry likes to keep things to himself, and I guess I can't fault him for that when I'm the same way, but sometimes I really want to smack him upside the head for it. How am I supposed to know what's going on when he won't tell me?  
  
I tried to ask about it a few times, and all he does is keep telling me not to worry, that everything will work out fine, but I know he's worried, too, and it bugs me that we all pretend like nothing's wrong when just about everything is.   
  
Still, Darry'd asked me not to worry about it, so I figured I should try not to. The only problem with that idea was that it meant there was an even greater chance that I'd end up worrying about Ponyboy or Steve, both of which were topics I could do without thinking of.  
  
When Tessa learned that Steve had kissed me a second time, I thought she was going to grin herself to death. She wouldn't quit smiling, and it was so damn annoying, because there was nothing for her to be smiling about, right? I mean, so what if he'd kissed me again? It didn't mean anything, because it couldn't mean anything. He had a girlfriend, and I was just his best friend's little sister.  
  
It was crazy. I mean, there could never really be anything more than attraction between us. Even if I did feel something, and I wasn't admitting anything, it just wouldn't work. It couldn't work, because Steve and me was a crazy idea, it didn't make any sense whatsoever.  
  
That's what I kept telling myself, anyway._  
  
_The truth is, and I'm loathe to admit this even to myself, I think maybe it could work. If we wanted it to, if we tried. There's always been chemistry between us, I realize that now. All the fighting and the bickering, the intense glares... chemistry. I've kissed my share of boys, but I've never had a kiss quite like the one with Steve, and from the breathless look on his face when we pulled apart, I reckon he hasn't either.  
  
The bell rang, releasing us for lunch, and I stood quickly, grabbing my books from my desk and turning to wait for Emma and Tessa to join me from their seats in the back of the classroom. Emma gave me an odd look as we headed towards the door. "Where were ya all class?" she asked.  
  
"What?" I said, frowning in confusion.  
  
Tessa giggled, rolling her eyes. "You were off daydreamin' for the entire period," she said, exchanging a knowing look with Emma. "I wonder what about."  
  
"Don't you mean _who_?" Emma retorted and they both snickered.   
  
I sighed, shaking my head. "I don't know why I'm still hangin' around with you two."  
  
"Because it's better than hangin' around with the boys all the time?" Tessa offered with a smile as she led the way through the door and out into the crowded hall.  
  
"Face it, Lizzie," Emma grinned, her eyes bright. "Ya know ya love us too much to..." she trailed off, her gaze drifting past me, and her eyes widened a little in surprise.  
  
"What?" I asked, frowning. "What is it?"  
  
Wordlessly, she nodded in the direction behind me, a silent cue for me to turn around. I did, and I imagine my expression mirrored her own when I saw what it was that had captured her attention.  
  
Leaning against the lockers that lined the wall across from my classroom, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a pair of jeans and a tight-fitting black t-shirt that showed off his wiry muscularity, was Steven Randle himself.  
  
He was watching the crowd of students pass by, tapping his fingers on his arm in boredom, but he must have felt my eyes on him, because he looked back right then and when our eyes met he pushed off of the lockers, starting towards me.  
  
"He's comin' over here," Emma said softly, and there was an unspoken offer to detain him long enough for me to slip away if I didn't want to deal with him yet, but I didn't run from my problems, and I wasn't about to start then.  
  
"Yeah," I murmured, my gaze locked on Steve as he weaved his way through the hall.   
  
He reached us a moment later, after shooting a glare at a Soc who purposely bumped into him a little too hard. If we hadn't been in school, Steve would have slammed his head into the wall, and I might have helped him. Lately the Socs had been getting even more aggressive, especially towards our kind of girls.   
  
Two-Bit's brakes had gone out the night before, while he and Kathy were going to get a bite to eat after the mess with Cherry at the lot. Since his car was in the shop now, Steve had to drive us to school, and on the way we saw a group of Socs hassling a pair of greaser girls. Steve was slowing down, ready to stop the car so he and Two-Bit could get out and intervene, but some of the Brumley boys were in the area, and they showed up to wipe the pavement with the Socs. We gave the girls, Betsy and Sally, a ride to school, and they got a lecture from Two-Bit about walking alone. Of course, lectures from Two-Bit are lighthearted and usually involve flirting, so I doubt they minded much.  
  
"Hey," Steve said as he reached my side.  
  
"Hey," I replied, and my voice came out more breathless than I would have liked.  
  
"We're gonna go on ahead to lunch," Emma told me, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'll see ya in math."  
  
"Right," I affirmed with a nod, watching as she started down the hall, tugging Tessa along by the wrist. I kept my gaze on their retreating backs for a few moments, trying to steady my breathing, and then I turned back to Steve, offering him a smile, tight smile.  
  
"You wanna get a burger or somethin' for lunch?" he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  
  
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. Normally we just go to the grocery store for snacks, and the last time we went anywhere for lunch was after Mom and Dad died, when Steve and Two-Bit thought that Pony and I needed some cheering up.  
  
"Not really in the mood for a burger," I replied. "But I'd settle for some fries."  
  
"Good deal," Steve agreed, and we headed out to the parking lot, making our way to his car. "Two-Bit ain't hungry, or so he claims," he informed me as he opened the passenger door. I blinked, startled to realize he was holding it open for me, but decided not to comment. "I reckon he just didn't want to get back into a car right after his little scare last night."  
  
I chuckled, nodding my agreement as he shut the door and walked around the car, opening the driver's side door and sliding into his seat.   
  
We drove over to the Dairy Queen, and Steve ordered us some fries and drinks, then we parked the car off to the side, and ate in comfortable silence. It was odd, really, to feel so at ease in his presence, considering how tense things were between us and all the unspoken questions hanging in the air, but it felt right.  
  
After a few minutes, Steve stopped eating, and licked his lips a few times, glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes. I pushed my fries back into the bag and shifted in my seat so that I was facing him, pursing my lips together inquisitively. "What is it?"  
  
"I broke things off with Evie," he said bluntly.  
  
I swallowed hard, surprised, and opened my mouth to ask why, but no words came out. I didn't need to ask anyway, I knew why, and he knew that I knew.   
  
"What do ya want from me?" I asked softly.  
  
Steve ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh that was part-frustration, part-defeat. "I just want you, that's all."  
  
There, he'd said it. What we'd both known in our hearts for a while now was finally out in the open, just lying there, waiting for one of us to pick it up and do something with it.  
  
But what, I had no idea.  
  
I bit my lip, my emotions washing over me for a moment. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the quickened beat of my heart, reminding myself to breathe. Steve wanted me, but did I want him?  
  
Lord, I did. I really, really did. Maybe I always had, and I just didn't know it. Maybe that was why I lost my temper with him so easily, why I hated Evie as much as I did. Of course, even if she hadn't been dating Steve, I wouldn't have liked her. She's just the kind of person I can't get along with, you know? Not necessarily mean or anything, just shallow and bossy. It wasn't until she started dating Steve that I really began to loathe her, though.  
  
As for Steve himself... he was handsome, he was smart, he was strong and sarcastic and almost as cocky as Two-Bit, which was really saying something. He could be real funny sometimes, and he had this gentle side to him, one that people rarely saw. I'd only seen it a few times in all the years that I'd known him, but when it showed itself there was something almost vulnerable about him, you know? Like he was letting you see right into the very heart of him and all.  
  
And we connected. It didn't happen that often, because we were too busy bickering to let it, but when it did it was like he knew me better than anyone. He understood all my little quirks, he understood that sometimes I just need to get angry because it's my way of coping with things that are too big and too hard for me. We may have fought like cats and dogs, but when it mattered, when it was real, Steve was always there for me.   
  
Like the day of Mom and Dad's funeral, when everything just got too overwhelming and I had to get away. I took off running, dress and all, ignoring Darry and Soda calling my name, and ran all the way to the park before sinking down into one of the swings and crying. Steve found me a while later. He didn't try to get me to talk about it, didn't try to tell me things was okay, because we both knew they weren't. He just sat down on the swing next to me, and kept me company until I was ready to go home. Over the years when I got my heart broken over silly crushes he was always there to offer a sarcastic, but not insincere, offer to beat up whatever boy had wronged me.   
  
He hadn't done those things because of some repressed feelings he had for me, or at least I didn't think so, but because he'd always cared about me, and he'd never been able to stand seeing me hurting.  
  
But I'm not a very trusting person, it's hard for me to let people in, to trust them with my heart. Could I do that with Steve? Could I trust him not to hurt me, and in turn deserve the same trust from him?  
  
I didn't know, but I was willing to find out.  
  
"Okay," I said at last.  
  
"Okay?" he echoed, and there was a distinct flicker of hope in his tone as he gazed down at me, his dark eyes swirling with silent emotion.  
  
"Yeah," I replied, and he smiled. "But only under one condition."  
  
Now it was Steve who raised an eyebrow, obviously not used to having a girl place conditions on his affections, and just as obviously curious as to what I was suggesting. "What's that?"  
  
"You have to tell Soda," I said firmly.   
  
His expression darkened, and I could see how he was wrestling with the idea. He cared for me, he wanted to be with me, but wasn't this one of those things that was supposed to be sacred among best friends? You never betray each other, you never hurt one another, and no matter what, you never, ever fall for the sister.  
  
Steve blew out a long breath of air, his shoulders sagging. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll tell Sodapop."  
  
"When? I asked.  
  
"I dunno," he shrugged. "When the time is right, I reckon."  
  
In other words, when Soda's in a really good mood, and less likely to kill him. Given my brother's mood lately, that might be a while.  
  
Before I could protest, though, Steve was leaning towards me, and his lips captured my own in a long, passionate kiss that left me so dizzy I forgot everything else.  
  
"Sorry," he said with a lopsided grin, leaning back in his seat smugly. "I've just been dyin' to do that all day, that's all."  
  
The funny thing was, I knew exactly how he felt.  
  
"How'd Evie take it?" I asked curiously.  
  
Steve gave a bitter, dry laugh. "Better than you'd expect, that's for sure. She was almost good about the whole thing?"  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah," he nodded, just as confused about it all as I was. "She said she was sorry things didn't work out between me and her, but that she always figured one day I'd open my eye and see what was there in front of me. She told me she's got no hard feelin's about it or anythin'."  
  
It was ironic, really, the way things turned out. A week ago, if someone had asked, I would have said that Evie was vindictive and mean, and that Sandy was kind, loyal and honest. But in the end it was Sandy who couldn't be trusted, and Evie who was trying to make amends.  
  
I guess you never can tell with some people.  
  
"Hey," Steve said softly, and I looked up to see him frowning at me worriedly, his dark eyes swirling with affection and concern. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah," I nodded, and when I smiled it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Yeah, I think I am."  
  
  
**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! Keep 'em coming! :)**


	13. Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen:  
**  
  
That night I had one of those dreams.  
  
One of those really, really good dreams. The kind that make you tingle all the way down to your toes, and leave this weird flutter in your stomach when you wake up in the morning. Normally when I have one of those dreams, I'm in a good mood that lasts the entire day.  
  
I haven't had one of those dreams in a long time, not since Mom and Dad died.  
  
So naturally, right as the dream was getting good, Darry had to go and wake me up, shaking me by the shoulders urgently.  
  
"Huh...?" I murmured, too tired to fully open my eyes, so I squinted up at his blurry form. "Go away, Darry, I'm tryin' to sleep here."  
  
I pulled my pillow over my head in an attempt to block out what he was saying, but he grabbed it away from me. I sat up, scowling, ready to give it to him real good, but stopped short when I saw the deliriously happy grin on his face.   
  
"Darry?" I asked softly, rubbing my eyes.  
  
"The hospital just called," he announced, a strange light shining in his eyes. He looked as if someone had just told him that we'd won the lottery or something. "They've got Ponyboy."  
  
"Ponyboy?" I gasped, throwing back my covers and swinging my legs over the side of my bed. "He's back?"  
  
"Yeah," Darry nodded. "Johnny and Dally, too."  
  
Dally? So Soda and I had been right about him knowing where they were. I wonder if Darry realized, if he did he didn't seem too upset about it at the moment. I hurried over to my closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and my boots, trying to get dressed as quickly as I could so that we could get down to the hospital and see Pony.  
  
That part finally sunk in and I turned back to my brother, jeans still in hand. "He's at the hospital?" I rasped worriedly. "Why? What happened?"  
  
Darry's mood sombered, and his mouth set itself in a grim line. "Apparently some church up in Windrixville caught on fire, and some little kids were trapped inside. Pony, Johnny and Dally rescued 'em, and they got a bit roughed up in the process."  
  
"How bad?" I whispered.  
  
"We don't know yet, princess," Darry replied with a shake of his head. "But Ponyboy wasn't admitted, they just checked him out a bit. He's doin' okay."  
  
That eased some of the heaviness in my chest, but not all of it, because just because Pony wasn't hurt, didn't mean that Johnny and Dallas weren't. "We're gonna go get him now, right?" I asked. "We can bring him on home tonight and everythin'?"  
  
"Yeah," he promised. "We get to bring him home."  
  
"You tell Soda yet?" I asked.  
  
"He's gettin' dressed now," Darry informed me. "Hurry up and do the same. As soon as the two of ya'll are ready, we'll leave."  
  
I got dressed as fast as I could, brushed my hair back and tied it off in a ponytail, then laced up my boots. By the time I got out into the living room, Soda was waiting at the door, and I could hear Darry starting the truck outside. "Ready?" Soda asked, flashing me a lopsided grin.  
  
"Let's go," I nodded, following him out the door, down the steps, and out to the car.  
  
It wasn't far to the hospital, but it seemed like the drive took forever, when in truth it hardly took us more than ten minutes. Darry parked the truck and the three of us hurried into the hospital, getting directions from the front desk.  
  
The elevator ride up to the third floor was filled with anxious silence. Soda kept taping his foot on the floor, willing the elevator to move faster by staring at the doors, and Darry was looking at his feet, his brow furrowed in deep thought.  
  
When the doors opened with a chime, Soda bounded out, but Darry hesitated. I glanced at him, but he was biting his lip, a worried look on his face, so I just squeezed his hand, then hurried out into the hallway.   
  
Soda was already scooping Ponyboy up into a bear hug, swinging him around like a little kid. I did a double take when I saw Pony, his silky dark hair bleached a wheat-gold yellow and his face singed with ash. Lordy, that hair sure made him look different.  
  
"Oh, Ponyboy," Soda murmured, touching his hand to the blond locks. "Your hair... your tuff, tuff hair..."  
  
"Spend too much time out in the sun or somethin', kid?" I asked dryly.  
  
Soda released his hold on Pony, still grinning, and our little brother turned to face me, his eyes wide with relief. "Lizzie," he breathed, taking a step towards me.  
  
I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. It's funny, in the past year or so Ponyboy's really gotten tall, so even though I'm older he stands a good few inches taller than me now. He felt thinner in my arms than I'd remembered, and I could smell the smoke that had seeped into his clothes, his hair, his skin. I closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat. "I missed ya, Pony," I whispered, my eyes stinging with tears. "I'm so glad you're home."  
  
_I'm so glad you're not hurt, _I added silently._ I'm so glad you're not dead...  
  
_"Oh, Lizzie," Pony said, hugging me tighter, as if he knew what I was thinking. His chin came to rest on the top of my head, and I felt tears fall on my hair. "I missed ya, too."  
  
Soda's expression suddenly changed, his smile fading into something more apprehensive, and Ponyboy stiffened in my arms. I didn't need to turn around to know that Darry had emerged from the elevator behind me.  
  
"Ponyboy..." he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.  
  
I let go of Pony and looked over at Darry, who was standing there looking lost, his fists jammed in his pockets, eyes pleading, lower lip starting to tremble ever so slightly. He has a frightened look in his eyes, like he was afraid that Pony would turn away from him.  
  
Ponyboy just stared at him for a moment, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Darry had driven him away that night, which had only made Pony even more convinced that Darry didn't love him. For such a smart kid, sometimes my little brother is a real dummy. But now Ponyboy was finally seeing the truth, that Darry did love him, that he loved him more than any words could ever say. Darry was crying, and he hardly ever cried. The last time I'd seen him cry was after Mom and Dad's funeral, when he went and sat out in the truck for an hour in the middle of the night and just bawled.  
  
I hadn't been able to sleep that night, and so I'd gone out to the kitchen to get something to drink when I saw him. I hadn't known what to do, so I simply made him some coffee and had a cup ready for him when he came back inside. We never talked about that night, and maybe that's part of this family's problem.   
  
We never talk about the hard stuff.  
  
"Darry," Ponyboy gasped out, stumbling towards him. "Darry, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."  
  
Darry wrapped him in a fierce hug, his shoulders shaking with sobs of relief. "Oh Ponyboy," he choked out. "I thought we'd lost you like we did Mom and Dad."  
  
Soda tugged me forward by the hand and the next thing I knew we were joining in on the hug, the four of us clinging to one another desperately. I could feel Darry's fingers digging into my shirt, twisting the fabric in his fist tightly, but I didn't mind. I knew how he felt, I understood what this moment with Ponyboy meant to him.  
  
A few minutes later, Darry lifted his head, sniffling, and eyed Pony's bleached hair. "You sure look funny," he observed, offering a wavery smile.  
  
"Yeah," Pony replied, half-sobbing, half-laughing. "I know. Don't rub it in."  
  
The four of us sat down in the waiting area to wait for word about Johnny and Dally. Ponyboy hadn't been able to get anyone to tell him anything, but he'd seen the boys when they were brought in, and he reckoned that Dally would be okay, since he was well enough to threaten to beat his head into a wall the next time he did something as stupid as running into a burning church.  
  
He didn't say anything about Johnny, though, and that worried me.  
  
A while later a doctor finally came out to speak with us. Ponyboy had fallen asleep, sprawled out on a few chairs, and I was starting to drfit off with my head on Soda's shoulder, but everyone sat up right away when the doctor approached.  
  
Darry and the doctor stepped off to the side to talk and when he came back, his mouth was set in a grim line and his face was paler than it had been. Ponyboy had been right about Dally- he'd gotten his right arm burned a bit, so he'd need to stay in the hospital for a few days, but he'd be as good as new in a few weeks.   
  
Johnny, however, was in pretty bad shape.  
  
A support beam had fallen on him during the fire, and he'd broken his back real good. His entire body had gotten some serious burns, and the doctors were giving him something to dull the pain, but he was still hurt real bad. They said that he'd never walk again, that he'd be crippled for the rest of his life.  
  
And that was supposed to be the good news, the option we hoped for, because the alternative was that he wouldn't make it at all.  
  
I gazed out the window of the truck, feeling sick, like I might throw up and faint at the same time. If Johnny was lucky, he might live. But what kind of life would he have? He'd never get to play football with the boys, never get to run over to our house when his got too harsh to deal with. He'd be trapped, and it would kill him.  
  
By the time we pulled into the drive, Ponyboy had fallen back asleep, so Darry had to carry him into the house, while Soda held open the front door for him.  
  
"He's gettin' too big to be carryin'," Soda muttered sleepily.  
  
"He's sure lost a lot of weight, though," Darry observed, and I was glad that I wasn't the only one who had noticed. They disappeared into the room Pony and Soda shared, and Darry lowered Pony onto the bed gently as Soda turned down the covers and get into bed beside him.  
  
"Night, Darry," Soda yawned. "Night, Lizzie."  
  
"Night, little buddy," Darry said to Soda as he backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned around, and didn't look at all surprised to see me standing there. Without a word, he started down the hall towards the kitchen, and I followed, stopping in the doorway while he got himself out a glass of chocolate milk and then sat down at the table.  
  
There was a long moment of silence, with both of us trying to come to terms with everything that had happened, with everything that might still happen.  
  
"Johnny's not gonna be okay," I whispered, my eyes stinging with hot tears. "Is he, Darry?"  
  
Darry looked down at his milk. "I don't think so, princess," he replied softly. "It's pretty bad."  
  
I nodded, swallowing hard past the lump that rose up in my throat. "Do ya think he's in a lot of pain?" I asked hoarsely, my voice quivering.  
  
"The doctors are trying to make it easier on him," Darry reminded me. "But they can't take the pain away completely."  
  
It wasn't fair, none of it. Johnny was a good kid, he was sweet and kind and he didn't deserve something like this. He'd only stabbed that Sheldon kid in self-defense, and he'd done it to save Ponyboy's life, as well. He'd risked his own life to save those kids from the church, without even a moment's hesitation. He was a good kid...  
  
I shook my head, tears sliding down my cheeks.  
  
It wasn't fair, but if there was one thing I'd learned over the years, it was that life isn't fair.  
  
Not at all.


	14. Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen:  
**  
  
"Mornin'," Ponyboy said as I staggered into the kitchen the next morning.  
  
"Mornin'," I yawned in reply, my bare feet padding along the cool floor as I moved to the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of chocolate milk. "How'd ya sleep?"  
  
"Felt weird to sleep on a real bed again," Ponyboy shrugged as he handed me a cup. "I didn't realize how much I missed it while we were up at the church."  
  
I smiled at him as I poured my drink, then poured a glass for him, as well. "What's for breakfast?" I asked. The first one up always cooks breakfast at our house, and Ponyboy had been getting out of the shower when I first woke up, so I had been able to enjoy my shower knowing that I wouldn't have to cook this morning.  
  
"Eggs and chocolate cake," Ponyboy replied as he opened the refrigerator and hunted around for the egg carton. "What else would we be having?"  
  
I made a face at him, then dropped down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. It was true, eggs and chocolate cake was the standard breakfast at our house, mainly because it was the one thing that we could all cook and we all liked.   
  
"You working today?" Ponyboy asked, grabbing a frying pan from one of the cupboards.  
  
"Yeah," I replied, gulping down my chocolate milk and rising to my feet. "I gotta get dressed, or Darry'll skin me."  
  
"Soda in the shower?" he asked.  
  
"Yep," I nodded, leaving him to his cooking and hurrying back to my room to get changed. I was slipping on my waitress dress when I heard the front door open and a familiar voice call out, "Anybody home?"  
  
"In here," Ponyboy hollered back. "Don't slam the door."  
  
Naturally, they slammed the door.  
  
Despite myself, I smiled, shaking my head as I ran my brush through my hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. I sat down on my bed and tugged on my shoes, tying the white laces tightly. Grabbing my apron off the back of my desk chair, I glanced at the mirror, then headed out into the hallway, passing Darry's room where he was putting on a white wife-beater and a pair of jeans. He looked up as I passed, giving me a pointed look. "Fifteen minutes," he warned. "Be ready to go or you're walkin'."  
  
"Fine," I said, continuing on my way out to the kitchen, where Two-Bit was helping himself to a beer and Steve was talking to Ponyboy. I stopped in the doorway, my arrival going unnoticed, and took a moment to observe Steve as he cut himself a piece of cake.   
  
He was dressed in a pair of dusty jeans and his DX shirt, which hung unbuttoned, showing off his chiseled stomach. Despite the grease stains on his cheek, he'd obviously been out working on Two-Bit's car this morning, he looked good. I wondered how I'd kept from noticing for so long.  
  
"How do you like bein' a hero, kid?" he asked.  
  
"A what?" Ponyboy echoed.  
  
"Being a hero," Steve repeated in exasperation, shoving the newspaper at him. "You know, like a big shot even." He glanced over at Two-Bit, who was taking a swig of his beer. "Beer for breakfast there, Two-Bit?"  
  
Two-Bit shrugged, then nodded his head at the paper in Ponyboy's hands. "What I like is the 'turn' bit," he drawled. "Ya'll didn't just 'turn' all of the sudden, ya'll were heroes from the beginnin'."  
  
"They're charging Johnny with manslaughter?" Pony murmured in shock, then lifted his head sharply. "What do they mean _if_ he recovers?!"  
  
I winced, suddenly wanting to smack Steve in the head with the newspaper. We hadn't gotten a chance to sit down with Ponyboy yet and explain just how serious Johnny's condition really was.  
  
"It also says how you saved them kids, Ponyboy," Steve pointed out as he took his cake into the living room. "That they'd have burned to death if it wasn't for you."  
  
"I'll tell you what, though," Two-Bit snickered, following him. "Ol' Dallas will sure be pissed that they didn't even mention his record."  
  
"Ain't that the truth."  
  
Snorting, I shook my head and stepped into the kitchen, offering Pony a smile as I grabbed a plate and slid a piece of cake onto it. When I turned around, Pony's face had gone a little pale as he gazed down at the newspaper in his hands.  
  
"There's an article all about us," he said softly. His brow furrowed, and when he lifted his gaze to meet mine his eyes were troubled. "They're thinkin' of puttin' us in a home?" he demanded angrily, throwing down the paper. "No way," he snapped, stomping towards the bathroom. "They ain't puttin' me in no home."  
  
Sighing, I bent down and picked up the paper, then moved into the living room, dropping down onto the couch and tossing my apron onto the cushion beside me.  
  
"Aww, hell, Ponyboy," Steve scoffed, giving me a warm smile before turning to talk to my brother. "They don't do that to heroes."  
  
Ponyboy didn't seem very reassured, combing his fingers through his bleached locks anxiously in front of the mirror.  
  
"Where is Soda and Superdope anyhow?" Steve asked, setting his cake plate down on the coffee table.  
  
I heard the shower curtain open inside the bathroom and Steve whistled, turning his back in that direction, a smirk on his face. "Mornin', Mr. Universe," he drawled. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by Darry suddenly appearing behind him and hefting him off the ground.  
  
"Super what?" Darry demanded, dropping him, and I laughed, shaking my head.  
  
Soda emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist a moment later, his hair dark and plastered to his face. "Darry, have you seen my DX shirt?" he asked.  
  
"No," Darry replied, shrugging a gray shirt over the wife-beater, and rolling up the sleeves. "They're around here somewhere, though."  
  
"Check in the dryer," I advised him.   
  
"You've got to wear pants, too, buddy," Steve reminded him, holding out a piece of his cake.   
  
Soda waved him off, turning his attention towards me. "How about my jeans?" he asked.   
  
"Darry's closet," I answered immediately. "I ironed yesterday."  
  
"Thanks, sis," Soda said with a lopsided grin, pressing a kiss to my cheek before bounding off into the bedroom.  
  
I rolled my eyes, then looked over at Steve, who had chocolate all over his upper lip. Smirking, I reached out and wiped it away with my thumb, but before I could pull my hand away, his own hand came up to capture my wrist gently and I found myself staring into his eyes. He had beautiful eyes, the kind that had those dark, long lashes. I know girls who would have killed for lashes like that.   
  
The corners of his mouth twitched, and his head tilted forward as if he was going to kiss me, but I pulled back, glancing pointedly at the others in the room, though none of them were paying us any attention. Darry and Ponyboy were talking quietly, from the snippets of conversation audible across the room it sounded like they were discussing the juvenile court hearing we'd been told about last night.   
  
"Not here," I said softly, and though he looked disappointed, Steve flashed me a rueful little smile before stepping away from me.  
  
I opened my mouth to ask him when he was planning to talk to Soda about us, but I forgot all about that when I heard what Ponyboy was saying. "I had one of those dreams again last night. The one I can't ever remember."  
  
I bolted into the kitchen just as Darry whirled around, white-faced and eyes wide with fear. After Mom and Dad died, Ponyboy started to have these fitful nightmares that would result in him waking up screaming bloody murder. The worst thing was, he could never remember what the dream had been about. It scared us all something fierce, but the doctors dismissed it as an overactive imagination. The dreams had gotten less frequent over time, especially once Soda began sharing a bed with him, but Ponyboy had never really gotten over it, and neither had Darry.  
  
"Was it real bad?" Two-Bit asked softly.  
  
"No," Ponyboy answered, but the quiver of his lip said otherwise.  
  
I took a step towards him and Darry started to speak, but Soda came romping into the room with Steve at his heels, cutting the conversation short. "You know what?" Soda said with a grin. "When we stomp the Socs good, me and Stevie here are gonna throw a big party and everyone can get ripped."  
  
I smiled at his exuberance, Soda was always the happy-go-lucky kind of guy, someone who could brighten up any room just by entering it.  
  
"Where you gonna get the dough, little man?" Darry demanded.  
  
"I dunno," Soda said as he dropped down onto the couch in his towel, plopping his DX baseball cap on his head. "I'll think of somethin'."  
  
"You gonna take Sandy to the party?" Ponyboy asked, and silence fell over the room. "What's the deal?" he asked, confused.  
  
I glanced at Soda's forlorn expression and my heart broke for him all over again. _Dammit, _I thought. _I should have told Ponyboy about Sandy.  
  
_"She went to live with her grandmother in Florida," Soda mumbled, his gaze glued to the floor.  
  
"How come?" Ponyboy frowned.  
  
"Look," Steve snapped angrily, and I knew his anger was more at Sandy than at Ponyboy. "It was either that or get married, and her parents almost hit the roof at the idea of her marryin' a seventeen-year-old kid."  
  
"Oh," Pony murmured.  
  
There was a heavy silence, and then Darry clapped Soda on the shoulder. "Better go get dressed, Pepsi-Cola," he said gently, using Dad's old nickname for him. "We're gonna be late for work if you don't."  
  
"Yeah," Soda said quietly, and slipped off to the bedroom to change.   
  
I sighed, shaking my head, and leaned against the wall in exhaustion. Steve propped himself up next to me, giving me a small, weary smile.  
  
"I hate to leave you here by yourself, Ponyboy," Darry said slowly, eyeing him worriedly. "Maybe I ought to take the day off."  
  
"I've stayed by my lonesome plenty of times," Ponyboy argued. "Besides, we can't afford for you to take a day off."  
  
"Yeah, but you just got home and I really ought to stay..."   
  
I bit my lip, seeing the turmoil evident in Darry's expression. Maybe I ought to call in to the diner and switch out my shift, I'd been working so many extra hours lately that I knew Ray would agree to give me the day off without hesitation.   
  
"Hell, I'll babysit him," Two-Bit offered with a grin, ducking as Pony took a swing at him. He pushed his shoulder into Pony's stomach, knocking them both to the floor. "I don't have anything better to do."  
  
Steve made a noise of disgust. "Ever think about gettin' a job?" he demanded, stepping over the wrestling boys. "Ever consider workin' for a livin', Two-Bit?"  
  
"Work?" Two-Bit gasped, wrapping his legs around Pony's ankles. "And ruin my rep?" He rolled over, pining Ponyboy with an arm around Pony's throat. "Holler uncle," he demanded.  
  
"Nope," Pony said, struggling, but the past week had taken a lot out of him and he didn't have the strength to fight Two-Bit off.  
  
"Hey, Two-Bit, lay off," Darry ordered, picking up his construction belt and draping it over his shoulder. "He ain't lookin' so good."  
  
"Yeah," Pony rasped as Two-Bit rolled off of him and Darry gave him a hand to his feet. "Lay off, Two-Bit."  
  
"You two do up the dishes, you hear?" Darry asked. Ponyboy, you take a couple of aspirins and go easy, will ya? If you smoke more than a pack today, I'll skin ya. Understood?"  
  
"Yeah," Pony muttered as Soda came back into the room, dressed in jeans and his DX shirt over a white t-shirt, sleeves rolled up and barefoot.   
  
"Soda," Steve moaned in exasperation, gesturing to his feet. "Shoes..."  
  
"Oh, right," Soda disappeared out of the room again.  
  
"You carry more than one bundle of roofin' at a time today," Ponyboy warned Darry. "And me, Soda and Lizzie here will skin you. Understood?"  
  
Darry actually grinned. "I hear ya," he promised with a nod as he started for the door.  
  
Grabbing my apron off the couch, I held it out to Steve. "Tie me?" I asked, and he grinned slyly, reaching his arms around me to drape it across the front of my dress, his fingers tracing along my hips longer than necessary, and he stood close as he slowly tied the strings at the small of my back, his breath hot on my neck.  
  
"Lizzie," Darry called from the front porch. "Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah," I called back, my voice quivering slightly. "Be right there."  
  
Steve smirked down at me, not missing the reaction his close proximity had on me. "Come on," he said, tugging on my ponytail, then darting out the door after Darry. Soda came hurrying up alongside me, pulling on his shoes as he ran, and I shook my head in amusement.  
  
"Bye, ya'll," I called over my shoulder to Two-Bit and Ponyboy as I bounded down the steps. Soda and Steve were already getting into Steve's car, and Darry was reaching over to open the passenger side door of the truck, so I climbed up into the seat next to him, buckling my seat belt.  
  
"What took you?" Darry grunted as we pulled out.  
  
"Huh?" I blinked. "Oh, nothing."  
  
Glancing over at the other car, I caught Steve's eye and he winked at me before he peeled out in the other direction.  
  
"Nothing at all," I said with a smile.  
  



	15. Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen:**  
  
  
Work was exhausting that day, with people coming up to me and asking about Ponyboy and Johnny all over again, but this time I didn't mind so much.   
  
With Ponyboy back home again, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders, you know? I felt like I could breathe normally again. And there was this warm tingle that kept flooding through me, every time that I thought about Steve.   
  
That day that he dropped me off at the diner, when he asked me what I wanted and I told him that I just wanted my life to make sense again, I don't think I really believed that could happen. My life was completely on track just yet, but it was getting there, and a big part of that was because my family was whole and together again, at least for now, and because of Steve. All those years of bickering and teasing had been full of tension, but now things felt _right_ between us, and that little thing seemed to make my steps lighter and my day brighter.  
  
Everyone wanted to know about Ponyboy and Johnny's heroic rescue of those little kids from the burning church, and about how Dally had plunged into the flaming wreckage to pull them both out when the roof began to cave in. All of the sudden they weren't hoods or greasers, but celebrities of sorts. Even the Socs were eager to hear about their adventure.  
  
Maybe it was having Pony home, maybe it was Steve's newfound role in my life, maybe it was seeing my brothers all getting along for the first time in ages... for whatever reason, the day seemed to go by quickly. When the time came for my lunch break, I decided to head over to the hospital to see Johnny and Dally.  
  
Since it was a nice day out I decided to walk. The hospital was only about a block away from the diner, so I didn't have to go far, and it was a busy time of day, so there were lots of people out and about doing errands.   
  
When I got to the hospital, the doctor was in with Johnny, so I headed up to Dally's room first, getting directions from the nurse at the front desk. As I drew closer to the door, I heard voices coming from inside the room, and when I poked my head inside I wasn't too surprised to find Tim Shepard sitting on the edge of a chair, smoking a cigarette and bragging about the rumble and how Dally was going to miss it.  
  
"You know," I drawled, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me. "There's no smoking in hospitals."  
  
Tim smirked, flicking his ash in my direction. "So arrest me, officer."  
  
I rolled my eyes, moving over to stand beside Dally's bed. "How ya feelin'?" I asked.  
  
Dally was shirtless, sitting propped up against a pillow with the bedsheet coming up to his waist. His hospital gown was balled up on the floor, and I wondered how long he'd waited after the doctor left the room before he got rid of it.   
  
"Not too bad," he said with a shrug, rubbing his right arm, which was bandaged up pretty good. "My arm's a little sore and all, but nothin' I can't handle."  
  
"I bet," I said with a smile. Dallas Winston was the kind of guy who thought a Greyhound bus could drop on top of him, and he could still handle things just fine. "Well, it's good to see that you're feeling well enough to strip down," I gestured at the discarded hospital gown, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"It was itchy," he waved it off with a grin. "So what's goin' on with the big times? Anythin' tuff happenin' with the gang?"  
  
For a second I pondered telling him about Steve, but only for a second. This was Dally, after all, he'd be as likely to tell Darry and Soda the first chance he got as he was to make sarcastic remarks about the whole thing for the next few weeks. He'd find out soon enough, that much I was sure of. Our gang has never been too good at keeping secrets.  
  
"Ponyboy found out about the juvie court hearin'," I told him instead, settling myself down on the edge of the bed. "He took it pretty hard."  
  
Dally frowned, nodding his head a little. "Kid's doin' alright, though?" he asked, a hint of worry in his cool tone.   
  
"Yeah," I nodded, touching a hand to his arm. "Thanks for gettin' him out of there in one piece, Dally. We owe ya one."  
  
"Just tell the kid the next time he does somethin' that stupid, I'm gonna bust his head in," Darry said with a scowl, his way of dismissing my gratitude. His scowl turned into a frown, and there was a flicker of something akin to fear in his icy blue eyes. "Have you seen Johnny yet?" he asked quietly.  
  
"No," I shook my head. "The doctor was in with him when I got here, so I came to see you first. I'll tell him you said hi, though, if ya want."  
  
"That's cool," he replied indifferently, but his eyes were still troubled. "Gimme one of those cancer sticks, will ya, Shepard?"  
  
I had a ridiculous urge to squeeze his hand or something, but I didn't. Dallas Winston wasn't the kind of guy to let anybody comfort him, and any attempt to do so would most likely be met with biting sarcasm. Still, I felt like I should do_ something_, you know? I understood what Johnny meant to him. His whole life, Dally's never loved anyone, except Johnny. He cares for him like a little brother, and while I flatter myself to think that Dally considers the rest of us friends, Johnny was his family.  
  
And I knew what losing him would do to Dally.  
  
Maybe Tim knew, too, because he handed a cigarette to Dally then excused himself, saying he was going to go break into the vending machine and steal himself a Coke. I bit my lip, watching Dally sulk, his expression dark and guarded as he lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips. Giving him false hope wouldn't do any good, but maybe I could make a gesture to show him I was trying.  
  
"Steve and I are makin' a go of goin' steady," I told him, knowing Steve was likely to kill me for spilling the beans to Dally of all people.   
  
Dally raised an eyebrow, his cool blue eyes studying me in silence for a moment. "That right?" he asked, and I nodded. "Good for you, kid," he murmured, and he sounded like he really meant it. "Good for you."  
  
"Thanks," I said. "Let's just hope that Soda and Darry feel that way, too."  
  
"They don't know?"  
  
I shook my head, smiling sheepishly. "Nope. I told Steve he had to be the one to tell Soda, but he says he's tryin' to break it to him gently. Personally, I think he's just scared of Soda."  
  
Dally smirked. "Your big brother's a tough fighter, kid. Steve's likely to get his head bashed in, and he knows it."  
  
"It's stupid," I insisted. "It don't matter if Soda likes it or not, I'm not a li'l kid anymore, I can decide for myself who I want to be kissin' on. Besides, Steve's his best buddy, he should be happy that it's someone he trusts."  
  
"Ain't that simple, doll," Dally replied, taking a drag of his cigarette. "But don't worry your pretty li'l head about it, huh? Those two will work things out just fine, watch 'em."  
  
I blew out a long breath of air. "I hope so. I'm gettin' a li'l fed up with worryin' about someone seein' us together and tellin' Soda. Or worse, Darry."  
  
Tim came back into the room then, so Dally didn't respond, just shook his head in amusement. "There's some good lookin' nurses 'round here," Tim commented with a lopsided grin. It was funny, but even when he smiled there was something dark, something almost predatory, in his eyes. It was the same with Dally, too, I guess. They'd lived hard lives and they'd turned hard themselves.  
  
I said goodbye to Dally, nodded at Tim, and slipped out of the room, heading down to see Johnny.  
  
He was lying still, with his eyes closed, when I entered the room, so I pulled a chair up beside his bed and touched a hand to his bandaged arm lightly. "Johnny, ya awake?"  
  
"Yeah," he rasped, eyelids fluttering open. "I'm awake."  
  
"How ya doin', kid?" I asked.  
  
"It's borin'..." he gasped, and I winced at the painful sound of his breathing. "Won't let me do nothin' but lie here."  
  
Forcing a weak smile, I looked him over, and my heart broke at the sight of him. The bedsheet covered from his ribs down, but everything above it was badly burned. He had bandages wrapped around him everywhere and tubes running from his body to the little machine on the wall. His hair was messy and dirty, and his face was scarred up real bad. Every breath he took was labored, and I could see the pain in his eyes, even though he was trying not to let it show.  
  
I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to cry in front of Johnny. "Ya get to lay around in bed all day and do nothin' and you're complainin' about it?" I asked dryly. "Two-Bit would have himself a heart attack if he hear ya sayin' that, kid."  
  
"Ain't that the truth," he said hoarsely, and I could tell that even those few words were tiring him out, so I decided to do the talking and let him just listen.  
  
"Went up and saw Dally a few minutes ago," I told him. "Tim Shepard was there visitin'. Dally said to tell ya that he said hi, and for you to just hang in there. He's actin' like a caged animal, cooped up in that room. I reckon it won't be too long before he just up and walks out."  
  
Johnny made a short rasping sound that could have been a laugh.  
  
"Pony and Darry are gettin' along better now," I continued, trying to keep my tone light and unconcerned with how pale he was. "And you and Pony got your pictures in the paper for being heroes, did ya know that? The whole town's real proud of ya, Johnny. Ya did good up at that church, ya did real good."  
  
He smiled, but even that seemed to take a lot out of him.  
  
"The rumble's set for tonight," I said with a sigh. "The boys are all worked up about it, but Dally's gonna have to miss it on account of him still bein' stuck in the hospital. He's not too happy about that." I bit my lip, frowning a little. "It's kind of sad, ya know? I mean, someone yells rumble and I'm there, but what good does it really do? It don't change anythin', don't solve none of the problems we've got."  
  
"Stupid," Johnny rasped, dark eyes full of pain and tears. "All of it's... just stupid."  
  
I nodded sadly. "Yeah, you're right about that, kid. It really is stupid, ain't it?" I squeezed his hand gently, running my fingers along his bandaged knuckles. "I might as well tell ya about Steve and me, since Dally already knows."  
  
Johnny looked up at me with curious eyes.  
  
"Steve and I are goin' steady," I told him with a small smile. "Happened while ya'll were gone. Don't ask me how, it's a long story and it gets real complicated and all, but the gist of it is that we're gonna see if maybe things can't work out better this way."  
  
"Sounds... nice..."  
  
Oh God, he was in so much pain, you could tell just by looking at him. He was struggling just to get words out, and he looked so weak and frail, so unlike the Johnny I'd known for most of my life.   
  
_This is real, _I thought, choking up a bit. _Johnny's really dyin' and there's nothin' any of us can do about it.  
  
_The tears I'd been fighting to keep at bay overwhelmed me then, and one slipped past my defenses, sliding down my cheek and burning my face along the way. I watched Johnny's eyes follow its descent, and I wanted to kick myself for letting him see, but I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't look away.  
  
"S'okay..." he tried to assure me. "I know... it's okay..."  
  
And he did know, I could see it in his eyes. The doctors must have told him already, either that or he'd figured it out for himself.   
  
I swallowed hard, my throat dry and burning, and took a few deep breaths to try and get myself under control again. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair for Johnny to die. Especially like this, of all things. Johnny was meant for a better life, a gentler life.   
  
He didn't deserve this.  
  
I felt his fingers curl weakly around my own, and he squeezed, so faintly I barely felt it, but it brought a shaky smile to my lips. "You're somethin' else, ya know that, Johnnycakes?" Here he was dying, suffering and in pain, and Johnny Cade was trying to comfort me.   
  
He smiled a little, his eyes fluttering. He was tired, and probably having a hard time staying awake, so I figured I should go.  
  
"Get some rest, ya hear, kid?" I asked as I leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Just rest now."  
  
He mumbled something sleepily as he closed his eyes, but I didn't catch it, and within moments he was out cold. I pushed to my feet, and stood there for a moment, watching him sleep, looking peaceful and still, and so tragically young.  
  
"Just rest, Johnny," I murmured softly. "I'll come see ya again tomorrow."  
  
But as I walked out of his room, I knew, somehow, that this was the last time I was ever going to see Johnny Cade alive.  
  



	16. Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen:**  
  
  
When I got home from work that evening, Darry was already starting dinner and put me to work as soon as I walked in the door.   
  
Soda and Steve were playing cards in the living room, and they both looked up as I passed. "Get me a Pepsi, will ya, Sis?" Soda asked as he peered down at the cards he was holding thoughtfully.  
  
"Sure," I replied. "Ya want one, Steve?"  
  
"Nah," he shook his head, smiling a little and my heart fluttered. He's got this little smile that he only shows for me, and every time I see it I feel like my knees are going weak. "I'm good, thanks, doll."  
  
I grabbed Soda a drink from the refrigerator and brought it back to him, placing it on the table. "Thanks," he said without looking up.  
  
"No problem," I smiled, smirking as I caught sight of his cards. "Five Kings, Sodapop?"  
  
Steve scowled. "I knew ya were cheatin', ya good for nothin'..." he reached across the table and swatted Soda's cards, and within minutes the two of them were arm-wrestling, laughing as they tried to outdo one another.  
  
While Darry baked the chicken and potatoes, I prepared a salad and heated up some vegetables. Whenever there was a rumble, the boys usually ate with us beforehand, but since Dally and Johnny were in the hospital, and Two-Bit liked to eat with his mother and sister, we didn't have to make too big of a meal.  
  
Ponyboy got home just as we were all sitting down to dinner. He looked tired and a little pale, and when he said that he'd just come from seeing Johnny and Dally, I understood why. We ate in comfortable silence for the most part, with the exception of Steve and Soda's lively conversation at the other end of the table. More than once I caught Steve's eye and he winked at me before turning back to listening to what Soda was saying.  
  
After we finished eating, Ponyboy slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower while Darry got cleaned up for the rumble, and Soda and Steve resumed their poker game which I'd made them put on hold in order to come eat dinner.   
  
As for me, I got to clean up the table and do up the dishes, just like I'd been doing all day, except I wasn't getting paid to do it for the boys.  
  
"Soda," Ponyboy called from the bathroom. "When did you start shaving?"  
  
"When I was fifteen," Soda hollered back.  
  
"When did Darry?"  
  
"When he was thirteen," Soda replied. "Why? Ya figurin' on growin' a beard for the rumble?"  
  
I snorted, rolling my eyes as I finished up rinsing the last of the plates.   
  
"You're funny," Ponyboy called sarcastically. "We ought to send you in to _Reader's Digest_ or somethin'. I hear they pay a lot for funny things."  
  
Soda just laughed, going right back to his poker game. I dried off my hands on the towel draped over the side of the counter, and headed back into the living room just as Darry came in, tugging on a tight-fitting black shirt that showed off his sculpted muscles. "Hey, Lizzie," he said, waving me over. "I wanna talk to you for a minute."  
  
"Okay," I said, dropping down onto the couch in front of him. "What about?"  
  
Darry frowned, a grim look on his handsome features. "I want you to sit this one out tonight."  
  
I blinked, startled. Not once had I ever been told I was out of a fight, not in all the years that I'd been scrapping right alongside my brothers and the boys. Not even Mom and Dad had ever actually forbidden me from fighting, though Mom had made her feelings on the matter pretty clear. "What?" I demanded. "Why?"  
  
"Well, things have been a lot rougher than usual lately," Darry began slowly.   
  
"So what?" I asked incredulously. "You implyin' I can't handle or somethin'?!"  
  
"That ain't what I'm sayin', princess," Darry shook his head. "It's just that you've been exhausted lately, pushin' yourself too hard with things. I reckon work and divin' has got you all tuckered out."  
  
My sharp reply was bit back by a wave of guilt at the reminder that he didn't know I'd dropped the diving team. As mad as he would have been about me working double shifts, I reckon he'd be even angrier about me throwing my chance to get into college out the window and all.  
  
"This is crazy," I protested, pushing to my feet angrily. "You can't just tell me I'm out of a fight, Darry, it don't work that way!"  
  
"Well, it does startin' now," Darry said sternly, and there was no hint of compromise in the stern set of his eyes. "I mean it, Elizabeth," he gave me a sharp look, and I winced at the use of the full name. "I don't want you fightin' tonight."  
  
I lifted my chin defiantly, about to unleash my righteous fury on him, when the last person I expected to hear supported Darry spoke up. "He's got a point, Lizzie."  
  
I shot Steve a surprised and betrayed look, but he didn't even flinch. He merely laid down his next hand of cards, continuing the poker game as he talked.  
  
"We all know you can handle yourself just fine in a rumble," Steve reasoned. "That ain't in question here. All your big brother is sayin' is that tonight, it's gonna be bad, win or lose. And things will be rough enough without havin' to keep an eye on you the whole time."  
  
"I don't need nobody to baby-sit me, Steve," I snapped.  
  
"I know that," Steve rolled his eyes, taking a drag on his cigarette before stomping it out on the floor, which earned him an elbow to the ribs from Soda. "All I'm sayin' is it'd just gonna cause trouble if everyone is worryin' 'bout you in the middle of the fight."  
  
He glanced up at me, for just a moment, but the look in his eyes said enough to convince me he wasn't talking about Darry or Soda or the others. He was talking about himself, saying that he'd be likely to get himself in a bind worrying over me. Part of me was annoyed by that, but another part of me was actually touched, which only served to irritate me even more.  
  
"Fine," I muttered, sinking back onto the couch and folding my arms over my chest in a huff. "Have it your way."  
  
"That mean you're gonna stay put?" Darry asked, sounding relieved.  
  
I sighed, blowing out a long hiss of air. "Yeah," I said, looking up at him in annoyance. "I'm gonna stay put."  
  
"Good," Darry replied, giving me a small smile. "Thanks, princess."  
  
"Whatever," I muttered, shooting Steve an extra glare out of the corner of my eye for good measure. He just smirked, swiping a gulp of Soda's Pepsi, and went back to his poker game. Soda flashed me a lopsided grin, probably assuming that Steve had backed Darry up just to tick me off.   
  
Remembering what Dally had said back at the hospital about how Soda was likely to react when he found about me and Steve, I reckoned it was smart to let him keep thinking that.  
  
Ponyboy emerged from his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, and dropped down on the couch beside me as he started to roll up the sleeves. "What are ya so glum for?" he asked, giving me a distracted glance.  
  
"I'm out of the rumble," I replied evenly, glaring at the floor.  
  
"Really?" Pony asked, sounding as if he couldn't believe it, either. "How come?"  
  
"Ask Darry," I muttered, but Darry had already disappeared into the other room. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching Steve and Soda play, before Ponyboy tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "You like fights, don't you, Soda?" he asked suddenly.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Soda shrugged, drawing another card. "I like fights."  
  
"How come?" Pony inquired.  
  
"I don't know," Soda said, shooting him a puzzled look. "It's action, it's a contest. Like a dance or a drag race or somethin'."  
  
"Shoot," Steve said with a smirk. "I just want to beat those Socs' heads in. When I get into a fight, I want to stomp the other guy good. And I like it, too."  
  
Despite myself, I smiled. Soda was an adrenaline junkie if I ever saw one, and Steve, well, Steve just liked anything that let him work out his frustrations and anger. Living with his old man has given him plenty of it stored up, so he needs fighting to vent it all out so he doesn't explode. It was good for him to be able to let off steam in a fight. _  
  
_"How come you like fights, Darry?" Ponyboy asked, looking over at the doorway where Darry was leaning against the wall. Darry frowned a little, the way he always does when he's deep in thought.  
  
"He likes to show off his muscles," Soda snickered.  
  
"I'm gonna show 'em off on you, little buddy, if you get any mouthier," Darry told him. He looked back at Ponyboy, pursing his lips. "I don't know if you ought to be in this rumble, either, Ponyboy."  
  
Pony stiffened, his eyes wide. "How come?" he demanded, the same way I had. "I've always come through before, haven't I?"  
  
"Yeah," Darry said with a proud grin. "You fight real good for a kid your size. But you were in shape before. You've lost weight and you don't look so great, kid. You're tensed up too much."  
  
I glanced over at Ponyboy, and realized that Darry was right. Ponyboy was as tense as an alley cat ready to pounce on its next meal. Come to think of it, he'd been that way ever since he got back.  
  
"Shoot," Soda scoffed, trying to get a hidden Ace out of his shoe without Steve seeing it. "We all get tensed up before a rumble. Let him fight tonight." He reached over and gave Pony a playful punch in the shoulder. "Skin never hurt anyone- no weapons, no danger."  
  
"Yeah, let him fight, Darry," I piped up, crossing my arms and giving him a petulant look. "One of us has to."  
  
"I'll be okay," Pony said, giving him a pleading look. "I'll grab hold of a little one, okay?"  
  
Darry bit his lip, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. "Well, Johnny won't be there this time..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "But neither will Curly Shepard, or Dally, and we'll need every man we can get..."  
  
"What happened to Shepard?" Pony asked with a curious frown.  
  
"He's in the cooler," Steve replied, kicking the Ace out of Soda's shoe. "In the reformatory."  
  
"What for?"   
  
"Knocked over a gas station," I answered with a sigh. It looked like Curly wasn't going to be getting out anytime soon, either.  
  
Pony gave a shake of his head in dismay, then turned back to Darry and resumed his begging. "Let me fight, Darry. If it were blades or chains or somethin' it'd be different. Nobody ever really gets hurt in a skin rumble."  
  
"Well..." Darry sighed, giving in. "I guess you can. But be careful, and if you get in a jam, holler and I'll help ya out."  
  
"It'll be okay," Pony said wearily. "How come you never worry about Soda this much? I don't see you lecturin' him."  
  
"Man," Darry grinned, draping an arm over Soda's shoulders. "This is one kid brother I ain't gotta worry about. This kid can use his head."  
  
Soda punched him affectionately in the ribs and I raised an eyebrow.  
  
"As you can see, he uses it for one thing- to grow hair on," Darry continued dryly, ducking under Soda's swing and then taking off for the door.  
  
Two-Bit stuck his head in the door just as Darry went flying out of it. Darry threw himself into a flip off the steps, landing on the ground lightly and pushing to his feet before Soda could catch him.   
  
"Welup," Two-Bit grinned. "I see we are in prime condition for a rumble. Everybody happy?"  
  
"Yeah!" Soda yelled, following Darry's lead and doing a flying somersault off the porch. He flipped up onto his hands and walked across the yard, just to beat Darry's performance.  
  
Steve shot me a grin, then took off at a run before leaping into a back flip on the front lawn.   
  
Ponyboy and Two-Bit gave a chorus of happy whoops, throwing themselves off the porch in identical roundoffs, landing with bent knees on the grass below. The boys were all hollering and roughing one another up, and I smiled despite my annoyance at being left behind. "Ya'll be careful now, ya hear?" I called from the doorway.  
  
"Yes, Mother," Two-Bit called sarcastically.  
  
"Get outta here, you no-count hoods," I chuckled, waving them off and stepping back into the house, shutting the door behind me. Making my way across the room, I dropped down onto the couch and turned on the television.   
  
If there was a bright side to not being able to fight in the rumble, it was that I had the television all to myself, which meant that I could watch _Get Smart _without interruption for once. Ponyboy and I both enjoy the show, but every time we try to watch it with the boys home, Soda and Two-Bit get bored and end chasing one another around the house pretending to be secret agents. Usually they end up annoying the others until Darry disappears into his room to read, and Dally and Steve split. Johnny always stayed behind, though, maybe because he liked the noise and the laughter better than being ignored back home.  
  
The familiar theme song filled the room, and soon I found myself absorbed in the latest antics of Agent 86 and Agent 99, but for some reason I couldn't quite seem to get into it that night. I just had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something bad was going to happen.  
  
If only I'd known how right I was.


	17. Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen:**  
  
  
I heard them coming when they turned the corner of our street.  
  
Turning off the television, I pushed to my feet and hurried over to the door, swinging it open and stepping out onto the front porch as they stumbled up the drive, soaked and dirty, all of them looking like they'd just gotten the tar kicked out of them. But from the delirious grins on their faces and their excited chatter, it went without question that they'd won.  
  
"Ya'll look like a bunch o' drowned alley cats," I drawled, relieved to see them all standing.   
  
Darry was the at the front of the pack, climbing up the steps slowly, like his entire body was aching. His right eye was puffy, I had a feeling he'd have a black eye in the morning, and there was a nasty looking cut on his forehead that would need to be cleaned up. "You ain't lookin' much better," he replied, eyeing my ruffled hair.   
  
"Fell asleep for a bit," I shrugged, holding open the door for them as they trudged their way onto the porch. I winced a little when I saw Two-Bit- blood was streaming down one side of his face, and his left hand was busted wide open. "Glory, what happened t' you?" I asked.  
  
"Busted open my knuckles over some Soc's head," he grunted in reply, brushing past me into the house, and I turned to inspect the remaining boys.   
  
Soda was in pretty good shape, with a wide cut across his lip and a bruise on his cheek, but nothing serious. His knuckles were red, meaning he'd done most of the swinging during his fight, which didn't come as much of a surprise. None of my brothers has ever been whipped in a fight, and it wasn't likely that they ever would.  
  
He was helping Steve up the steps, and I turned my gaze to Steve, looking him over with concern. He was holding his side, his features twisted into a grimace of pain, and blood was trickling down the right side of his face from a nasty gash at his temple.   
  
"Are you okay?" I asked softly, touching his arm gently.  
  
"Yeah," he replied hoarsely, wincing as he clutched his side. "I think I broke a few ribs."  
  
I bit my lip, my heart wrenching at seeing the shape he was in. If I'd doubted my feelings for him before, there was no denying it now. "I'll get some bandages and stuff to fix you boys up." Glancing at Two-Bit, I added, "We'll have to get ya over to the hospital after a bit so they can stitch you up right."  
  
Two-Bit groaned, no doubt at the thought of the getting stitches. He's always hated needles, so he usually puts up a fight about going to the hospital, but he'd go because we'd make him. And if he gave me any lip about it, I'd just have Darry drag him there by force.  
  
I followed Soda and Steve into the house, shutting the door behind me, and then frowned, realizing that someone was missing. "Where's Ponyboy?" I asked, looking around worriedly.  
  
"He and Dallas took off after we got the Socs on the run," Two-Bit replied, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.   
  
"Dally was there?" I asked incredulously. "He's supposed to be in the hospital!"  
  
"Supposed to be," Soda agreed dryly. "Isn't."  
  
"He showed up at the start of the rumble," Darry explained, easing himself down into his armchair. "Put up a pretty good fight, too, considerin' he could only use the one arm."  
  
"Glory," I muttered, shaking my head. "That boy has absolutely no common sense."  
  
"This is Dally we're talkin' about," Steve pointed out with a pained smirk.  
  
"Good point," I muttered, shaking my head and sighing. I hurried into the kitchen and got the First Aid kit out from under the sink, pausing to turn on the sink and wet one of the dishtowels before heading back into the living room.  
  
"Toss me a Band-Aid, will ya, princess?" Darry asked, fingering the cut on his forehead.   
  
I complied, throwing him the antiseptic cream, too, then turned my attention to the others. Soda didn't really need anything except maybe some ice to hold against his cheek, so I decided to get Two-Bit cleaned up first.   
  
It was easier said than done.  
  
Every time the antiseptic touched his wounds, he hissed and tried to pull away, but I held him in place firmly, fixing him with a sharp glare. "Hold still, will ya?" I snapped. "This won't hurt as much if ya quit your squirmin'!"  
  
"Easy for you to say," he muttered, but he didn't fidget as much after that. I cleaned the gash on his cheek as best I could, but it was going to need a few stitches later, and his hand was going to need even more. I wiped up the blood a little, then bandaged his knuckles and taped up his cheek, careful to do it as gently as I could.  
  
"There," I said, flashing him a small smile. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"  
  
He just cocked an eyebrow at me, and I rolled my eyes as I pushed to my feet. Soda had helped Steve down onto the couch, and he was laying there with his shirt unbuttoned, breathing hard, while Soda murmured to him reassuringly. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when I knelt down beside him, and it pained me to see his eyes so feverish and bewildered.  
  
"How ya feelin'?" I asked.  
  
"Like I got ran over by a truck," he groaned.  
  
"Ya look like it, too," Soda teased him, and I could see he was trying not to laugh at the pitiful glare Steve threw in his direction.  
  
"Sodapop, go grab some ice for that bruise," I told him, nodding at his swelling cheekbone. "Get some for Darry's eye, too, will ya?"  
  
"Sure," he nodded, and dragged himself off into the kitchen.  
  
"Ya sure got yourself roughed up," I sighed, eyeing Steve's bruised ribcage.   
  
"Tell me about it," he gasped out, wincing again. "Ya gonna doctor me up?"  
  
Despite myself I smiled at his halfhearted flirting. "I reckon I have to," I said as I picked up the roll of bandages. "No one else is likely to do it."  
  
"Ha ha," he muttered, slowly easing himself upright by the elbows to make it easier for me to bandage his ribs. "You know, you're a funny girl- for a Curtis that is."  
  
"Oh, quit your whinin' and sit still," I scolded lightly, leaning closer to him as I reached my arms around his waist to start wrapping the bandage around his torso. My fingers brushed his skin more than once, making my pulse quicken, and when I smoothed out a crease in the bandage, I felt his heart racing under my palm.  
  
It was sort of reassuring to know that I had the same affect on him that he did on me.  
  
"There," I said, smiling as I finished securing the bandages. "That ought to hold ya over for now."  
  
I moved to pull my hand away, but Steve's own hand closed over mine, keeping it pressed gently to his side. I swallowed hard, lifting my gaze to meet his dark, swirling eyes. He was feverish, but there was something else making him look at me that way. Something reckless and dangerous, and Lord help me, it was exciting.  
  
Tilting his head, he leaned down and captured my lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made my stomach flutter. When I opened my eyes as I pulled back, I found his own dark eyes gazing down at me with a soft expression that took me by surprise. He glanced at something past me, and he smirked a little, albeit nervously.  
  
"Remember how I said I was gonna tell Soda about us?" he murmured ruefully.  
  
"Yeah," I said breathlessly.  
  
"I think he knows," he said softly.  
  
Sure enough, when I turned my head to look I found not only Soda, but Darry and Two-Bit, all three of them gawking at us like we'd just grown an extra head or something. My stomach fluttered again, this time in anxiety, but I didn't have the heart to glare at Steve when I knew how hard this was for him.  
  
Apparently, it was hard for Soda, too. "What the hell are ya doin', Steve?" he demanded angrily, taking an angry step forward, his brow furrowed and his eyes blazing.  
  
"Kissin' your sister," Steve replied without missing a beat, but he didn't look overly thrilled at having to answer that question.  
  
Soda seemed taken aback by that, and he opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, growling in frustration. "Why the hell would ya do a thing like that?"  
  
"If you don't know, man, we should be havin' a whole 'nother conversation," Two-Bit muttered.  
  
"Shut your trap, Two-Bit," Soda and Darry snapped in unison, and Two-Bit complied, taking a swig of his beer as he settled back in his chair to watch the drama unfold. "Elizabeth," Darry said evenly, fixing me with a deadly serious gaze. "I think you'd better start explainin' things."  
  
Biting my lip, I glanced over at Steve, who squeezed my hand discreetly, then sighed, turning back to Darry. "I don't see what's so hard to understand here, Darryl. It don't take a genius to see that Steve and I have been seein' each other."  
  
Soda looked like he was about to explode, but Darry held up a hand, silencing him. "For how long?" Darry wanted to know, speaking in that grim, low voice that doesn't let on a thing about what he's thinking or feeling.  
  
"Not long," Steve answered, and I had to admire his courage for speaking at all given the heated glares my brothers were throwing in his direction. "Just about a week."  
  
"A week?" Two-Bit whistled and raised his beer in salute, sounding amused. "Boy, you got nerves of steel pullin' somethin' like this."  
  
Steve tensed, like he wanted to glare at him, but he didn't take his eyes off of Soda. "It ain't like I meant for this to happen, Sodapop. It's just one of those things... I couldn't help it, man."  
  
I'd never noticed before, but Soda's eyes were really almost black at times, they were that dark. I wondered if mine did that, too. He was angry, that was obvious, but there was more to it than that. He felt hurt, betrayed, that Steve had gone behind his back, and we all knew it.  
  
"I was gonna tell you," Steve said quietly, his voice suddenly soft and vulnerable. "Sodapop, I-"  
  
He never got to finish, because at that moment the front door banged open, and in staggered a very dirty, bloody, and disoriented Ponyboy. Every head in the room snapped in his direction, and immediately Steve and I were all but forgotten.  
  
"Where have you been?" Darry demanded. "It's late, Ponyboy, you can't just..." he trailed off, seeing the pale look on Pony's face. "Ponyboy, what's the matter?"   
  
Pony was trembling now, his eyes glossy as they darted around the room, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. "Johnny... he's dead," he rasped, and my blood ran cold at those words. "We told him about beatin' the Socs and... I dunno, he just died."  
  
A stricken silence fell over the room, and for a long moment no one so much as breathed.   
  
Soda whimpered, his lips curling up as if he was about to burst into tears. Two-Bit's eyes were closed and he was clenching his teeth furiously, fingers digging into his palms, as if he was fighting the truth, as if by refusing to believe it he could somehow keep Johnny alive.  
  
I closed my eyes tightly, but the tears slipped past anyway. I wasn't surprised, I had known when I left the hospital that Johnny was worse off than any of the others realized, but I hadn't expected him to die so soon, so suddenly. I'd thought there would be time for the others to visit with him, for everyone to say goodbye. Darry, Steve and Soda hadn't even been able to get over to the hospital yet, because of work.  
  
And now it was too late, Johnny was gone.  
  
"Dallas is gone," Ponyboy rasped. "He ran out like the devil was after him. He couldn't take it. He's gonna blow."  
  
Of course he was gonna blow, why did anyone expect anything else from him? Johnny was the only thing Dally had ever loved, and without him...  
  
"So he finally broke," Two-Bit muttered. "So even Dally has a breaking point."  
  
I was tempted to shoot him a glare, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Ponyboy. He was shaking something fierce now, and even from across the room his skin look clammy and pale.   
  
"Soda, Darry," I whispered frantically, drawing their attention to our little brother.   
  
"Ponyboy," Soda said softly, like he was talking to an injured animal. "You look sick. Sit down, will ya?"  
  
Ponyboy backed away, almost frightened, shaking his head. "I'm okay," he insisted, even though it was clear that he wasn't. "I don't want to sit down."  
  
Darry and Soda exchanged a worried glance, and then Darry took a step towards Ponyboy, but Pony darted back, his eyes wide and panicked.  
  
"Don't touch me," he gasped out, pleading and desperate.  
  
Two-Bit was watching him with fearful eyes, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Steve struggling to his feet, one hand clutching his side. He was watching us all, his eyes sweeping from Ponyboy to me to Soda and back, concerned and more than a little freaked out.  
  
The phone rang, but nobody so much as glanced at it. When it rang again, I turned my head to look at Steve, gesturing at the phone. He nodded, and moved across the room to answer it. "Yeah?" he said into the receiver. After a pause, he replied, "No, this is Steve. Dally?"  
  
That got our attention, and everyone's gazes shifted to the phone now, instead of Ponyboy, and that seemed to calm him down a little, because his breathing slowed down some.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Steve said, and held the phone out to Darry. "He wants you."  
  
As Darry took the phone, holding it up to his ear, Steve moved over to stand between me and Soda, but none of us spoke. We were all watching Darry, our hearts racing and pulses pounding, dreading what he might have to say when he hung up the phone.  
  
"Hello?" he asked, and then he was quiet for a long moment, and emotions played across his face as he listened to Dally talk. His brow furrowed, and his lips pressed together in a thin, grim line. His shoulders tensed up, the way they do when he's really worked up about something, and I knew then that something was really wrong.  
  
"Yeah. Sure, Dal, we'll be right there," he promised into the phone, then hung it up quickly and spun to face us, his eyes frightened. "Dally held up a grocery store, the cops are after him."  
  
"We gotta hide him," Two-Bit cried.  
  
Darry nodded, starting for the door. "He'll be in the lot in a minute."  
  
We hurried out the door, taking the steps in running leaps, and broke into a sprint as soon as our feet hit the pavement. Even Steve, with his three broken ribs, was running as fast as he possibly could, and distractedly I wondered how he could stand the pain.  
  
Ponyboy is the track star, but we're all pretty good runners. We used to have races in the summer when we were younger, seeing who could sprint from one end of the block to the other the fastest. It normally took about two minutes to get to the lot if we were walking at a normal pace, a minute if we ran flat out the whole way.  
  
We were pushing it for time, and I think we all knew it. The cops were right on Dally's heels, and he didn't have much time. We had to get there in time, we just had to. That was why he'd called us, after all, so we could hide him.  
  
But as we ran, a horrible thought swept over me, and I wondered suddenly if maybe Dally hadn't called for another reason. If maybe we weren't supposed to be there to save him, but to see it end.


	18. Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen:  
  
  
**I used to love running.  
  
The feel of the wind whipping at my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my blood, the way my leg muscles would burn by the time I came to a stop. Ponyboy has always been the track star in the family, but Darry and I aren't too shabby, either. Darry had to be able to run because of football, but me, I just liked the feel of it all.  
  
But that was a long time ago.  
  
Now my chest was aching, so tight it felt it might explode, and my legs felt like they were on fire. I didn't slow down, though, because that wasn't an option.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
We rounded the corner of the lot with Ponyboy in the lead just as Dally came bursting in from the other direction. My ears were ringing with the shrill wailing of sirens, and my heart leapt in my throat as two police cars pulled in behind Dally, closing in on both sides.  
  
"No," I breathed, pushing myself even harder. "Oh God."  
  
The cops jumped out of their cars, the slam of their doors echoing through the crisp night air as they drew their guns. Dally had skidded to a halt under the street lamp, and I watched in horror as he pulled a dark object from the waistband of his jeans.   
  
_His gun, _I realized with dread. _Oh, Dally, don't! They don't know it's not loaded!_  
  
"No!" Darry shouted, his voice thick and hoarse.   
  
Dally raised the gun and I bit back a sob, cursing him for ever being born. How could he do this to us?  
  
"Don't shoot," Soda hollered desperately, but of course they already were.  
  
The funny thing about gunshots is that people always tell you they sound like a car backfiring, but they don't. Each one sounds like a nail being driven into someone's coffin, sharp and cruel and merciless. The police, they weren't the bad guys here, they thought that Dally was going to shoot them.  
  
So they continued to shower him with molten bullets, and I felt each and every one of them like a stab through the heart as the impact jerked Dally around violently.  
  
"It ain't loaded!" Ponyboy shrieked, bordering on the edge of hysteria. Dally stumbled, staggering back to his feet again, defiant, and it got him two more to the chest.   
  
"He's just a kid," Two-Bit cried, his voice breaking.  
  
Dally crumpled under the street lamp, crimson blood beginning to pool around him, a small smirk on his bloodstained lips and a cold, triumphant look in his lifeless eyes.  
  
He was dead before he even hit the ground.  
  
"No," Steve gasped out, stumbling forward with a sob, and Soda caught him by the shoulders, holding him up as tears ran down his face.   
  
"Easy, buddy, easy," Soda choked out. "There's nothing we can do now."  
  
Had there ever been? Could we have tried harder, done something more, to prevent this? Or had Dally, like so many other young hoods, been doomed from the start? Life had been unkind to them from the start, they didn't know anything else. Maybe Dally would have ended up like this sooner or later, no matter what we, or anyone else, tried to do for him.  
  
Suddenly I had to see him, just for a moment, so I rushed forward before anyone could stop me, falling to my knees beside Dally's body. The cops were coming towards us, asking us to back away, but I didn't care, I had to do this.  
  
With a trembling hand, I reached out and touched the side of Dally's face. It was cool and clammy, and his blood trickled onto my fingers as I gently brushed his hair out of his face. I couldn't help but stare at his cold, icy blue eyes, and I wondered what he might have been like if circumstances had been different, if he'd been given a better life. Would he have ever bothered with school? Would he have gotten serious about the rodeo or would he have gone on to find a different career? Would he have ever fallen in love, settled down? Would he have ever changed? _Could_ he have changed?  
  
No one would ever know now, and that was the saddest part of all.   
  
In less than half an hour, we'd lost Johnny and Dallas both. It didn't seem right, and it sure didn't seem fair.  
  
But they were dead just the same.  
  
I felt Darry's hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me away, but I couldn't tear my eyes off of Dally's lifeless body. His face was so pale, and there was so much blood... the ground was soaked with it.  
  
Strangely enough, I didn't feel sick. I'd always thought that I would feel ill if I ever saw that much blood, but I didn't.   
  
I didn't really feel anything, except empty.  
  
Dallas was dead.  
  
It wasn't right, he didn't deserve this. This was the boy who had taken care of himself all his life, who turned hard and cold because that was what the world demanded of him. The same boy who just days ago went into a burning church to rescue a bunch of little kids.   
  
How were the papers going to remember him? Odd that I should be worrying about that now, with him lying dead in front of me, but I did. Dally wouldn't be remembered as a hero who saved a bunch of kids from burning to death, he would be remembered as a hood who was better off dead. One less criminal on the streets, they would say, the world is better off without him.  
  
But we wouldn't be better off. As hard and bitter, and sometimes even downright mean, as Dally could be, he'd been one of us. There had always been something dangerous and dark buried deep inside of Dallas Winston, but there had been something gentle, too, something almost vulnerable.   
  
He could have been a good man, if things had been different.  
  
"Lizzie," Darry hissed, his fingers digging into my shoulders so hard I was sure I'd have bruises in the morning. "Lizzie, come on back to the rest of us, okay, princess?"  
  
I barely registered what he was saying, but I let him tug me away from Dally, my eyes still glued to his bloody form as the cops moved forward with a tarp to cover him up.   
  
"Look away, darlin'," Darry whispered, guiding me by the shoulders. "Just look away."  
  
Finally, as the tarp fell across Dally's face, I did, and looked instead at the others, still feeling oddly detached, as if none of this was real.   
  
Steve was on his knees, one arm holding his side, with his face buried in Soda's shoulder. My brother had his arms wrapped around him, his head bowed as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Dimly, I realized that Dally had been right back at the hospital, they would work things out somehow, but I was too dazed to pay them much attention at the moment.  
  
Two-Bit was sitting on the ground, his head hung, crying softly. Darry moved away from me to squeeze his shoulder, and Two-Bit looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes before choking on a sob and looking down again.  
  
As for Darry, well, my big brother had tears in his eyes, and the faraway part of my brain, the part that wasn't hazy and blurry, knew that was never a good sign. If Darry broke down, then we'd all fall apart, it was that simple.  
  
A soft groan from behind me somehow made it through the fogginess in my brain, and I turned to see Ponyboy swaying on his feet, his face pale and his eyes rolling up in the back of his head. "Glory," Two-Bit cried, following my gaze. "Look at the kid!"  
  
Ponyboy's knees buckled under him and he collapsed towards the ground, but Darry managed to catch him just before his head hit the pavement. "Ponyboy?" he cried frantically. "Pony, wake up!"  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Soda asked worriedly, a scared look in his eyes.  
  
"He's feverish," Darry replied, touching Pony's forehead. "He's sick, we need to get him to the hospital."  
  
"The cops," Steve rasped, staggering up to his feet. "They can get us an ambulance."  
  
Without waiting for a reply, he hurried off, presumably to talk to the police, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Ponyboy's pale face. "Is he gonna be okay?" I whispered, my voice quivering.  
  
"I hope so, princess," Darry replied after a long moment. "I hope so."  
  
I blinked back the tears stinging my eyes, swallowing hard. A moment later I felt Steve come up behind me, touching my shoulder gently, and I whirled around to bury my face in his chest, hugging him tightly.  
  
I think he was surprised for a moment, since so far I'd been the only one who hadn't cried, but he brought his arm down around my waist, drawing me close. "It'll be okay," he said hoarsely.   
  
And it if wasn't? If Ponyboy was taken from us, too?  
  
What then?  
  



	19. Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen:  
  
  
**I've never liked hospitals much.   
  
I don't know what it is, but there's just something about them that gives me the creeps. Darry says that hospitals are places where people go to get well, but I know better. Hospitals are places where people go to die. Don't believe me? Just look at my Mom and Dad, at Johnny...   
  
Hospitals do not sit well with me at all.  
  
Even less when it's my baby brother laying in some emergency room, surrounded by doctors, and they won't tell us what's going on.  
  
Glancing around the lobby at the others, I sighed to myself. Darry was hunched over in his chair, hands clasped in front of him, staring at the door to Ponyboy's room as if he could will the doctors to come out and tell us something. For once Soda was sitting still, his gaze lowered to the floor as he sat sprawled in his chair like a lazy cat.  
  
Two-Bit was flipping through a magazine, but he didn't really seem to be reading it, just trying to keep himself busy so he didn't have to think about anything. Steve was stretched out across three chairs, resting with his eyes closed, but his expression was too pained to be called peaceful.  
  
Since we were at the hospital already, Two-Bit had gone ahead and let one of the nurses stitch up his hand and the side of his face. His knuckles were taped up again now, to keep the stitches secure, and a few strips of medical tape covered the row of stitches on his cheek.  
  
The nurse had given Steve some strong painkillers after examining his ribs, with extra to take home with him to help numb the pain. He was told to take it easy and rest as much as possible, but knowing Steve I figured he'd be up on his feet again within a few days, his typical show of defiance.   
  
"I'm gonna get somethin' to drink," I said, pushing to my feet. "Ya'll want anythin'?"  
  
"Some coffee would be good," Darry sighed, running a hand through his hair, finally tearing his gaze away from the door to Ponyboy's room to offer me a weak smile.  
  
"Get me a Pepsi, will ya?" Two-Bit asked, yawning a little as he shifted around in his chair.   
  
"Me, too," Soda murmured, sparing me a fleeting glance before looking back down at his shoes again.   
  
"Yeah," I said, nodding as I started across the lobby. "Sure."  
  
I rounded the corner and made my way to the vending area down the hall. Fishing some change out of my pocket, I got three Pepsis, then moved over to the coffee pot, setting the sodas down so I could fix Darry a cup of coffee. When I was done, I frowned, trying to figure out how to carry all of the drinks back without spilling anything.  
  
"Here," a voice said from behind me, and I turned to see that Steve had followed me out of the lobby. "I got it."  
  
"Thanks," I said, smiling faintly as he reached over my shoulder and picked up the other sodas. "I appreciate it."  
  
"No problem," Steve replied, flashing me a small smile. His dark gaze raked me over appraisingly, a tinge of concern showing on his handsome feature. "How are ya holdin' up?"  
  
"Okay, I guess," I said softly, shrugging my shoulders. "It's... it's a lot to take in at once, ya know?"  
  
"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."  
  
We stood in silence for a moment as I stirred Darry's coffee a little, trying to cool it down some. When I looked up again, Steve was watching me. "What?"  
  
"You were pretty out of it back there at the lot," he observed quietly.   
  
"Yeah," I agreed softly, trying not to remember how still and pale Dally had been. "Sorry about that."  
  
"Don't be," he shook his head. "You don't have to be strong all the time, ya know, Lizzie."  
  
"Yes," I replied firmly. "I do. My family is comin' apart at the seams, Steve, has been for a while now. Darry's workin' two jobs to support us and it's nearly killin' him. Pony's sick, and then there's that whole mess with the juvie courts and he's missed so much school already they might not let him make it up." I bit my lip, then admitted quietly, "I don't know what to do."  
  
"Well, for starters ya could let us help you," Steve pointed out with a faint smirk. "Ya don't have to handle everythin' on your own, ya know."  
  
"I know," I muttered, my chest aching. "It's just..."  
  
"Just what?"  
  
"Everyone keeps goin' away," I rasped, my eyes stinging with tears. "And I can't stop it."  
  
"Hey," Steve said softly, touching his hand to my cheek tenderly. "Hey, look at me, Lizzie."  
  
I lifted my watery gaze to his face, and realized that there were tears in his eyes, too. He was blinking them back, trying to will them away, but it wasn't working.  
  
"I won't go anywhere," he promised seriously. "Not unless ya tell me to. Okay?"  
  
"Promise?" I asked hoarsely.  
  
"Yeah," he nodded. "I promise."  
  
And then he kissed me, soft and short, but it was enough to reassure me and calm my shaking nerves. If Steve said it would be okay, then somehow it would be.  
  
"We better get back to the others," I murmured. "See if they've gotten any word on Ponyboy."  
  
"Yeah," Steve agreed, smirking a little. "Besides, any longer and Soda might notice that we're both missin' and jump to conclusions."  
  
I chuckled softly as we made our way back towards the lobby where the others were waiting. As we drew near the room, Steve began to pull his hand away from mine, but I squeezed my fingers tighter, refusing to let go. He glanced at me in surprise, but then smiled, understanding that I didn't care what the others thought right then.   
  
When we got back to the lobby, Darry was talking to a doctor in a white coat, with Soda and Two-Bit listening closely, but as soon as we entered the room, they looked in our direction. I saw Soda's eyes flicker to mine and Steve's intertwined hands, but his expression was unreadable.  
  
Darry finished up talking to the doctor, who walked off down the hall, and dropped down into his chair wearily.   
  
"What's goin' on?" I asked worriedly as we hurried over.  
  
"He's got a nasty concussion," Darry explained, looking older and more exhausted than I could ever recall seeing him. "It happened in the rumble, some Soc kicked him in the head real good."  
  
"Soda here wiped the floor with the guy who did it," Two-Bit added with a proud, but tired grin, patting Soda on the shoulder affectionately.  
  
"Ponyboy's got a pretty high fever, too," Darry continued, ignoring the interruption. "He's been in and out of consciousness for the past hour, mutterin' deliriously. The doctors gave him some medicine to help, but they want to keep him here overnight for observation."  
  
"Observation?" I echoed.  
  
"It's just a precaution, princess," Darry assured me, glancing at Soda, as well. "He'll be fine, they just want to keep an eye on him for a bit, understand?"  
  
We both nodded silently.  
  
"Good," Darry sighed. "I'm gonna stay here the night, but I want the rest of you to head on home and get some rest, ya hear? You can take the truck and come back in the mornin' and pick us up."  
  
"But-" Soda began, but Darry cut him off with a level glare. "Yeah, alright."  
  
"Here are the keys," Darry said, handing them over to Soda. "Drive slow, will ya, little buddy?"  
  
"Sure," he answered dully.   
  
Darry squeezed his shoulder, and I moved forward to give Darry a kiss on the cheek. "Try and get a good night's sleep, okay?" I suggested softly.  
  
"You, too, princess."  
  
The drive home seemed to take forever, and there was a dark silence in the cab of the truck. No one spoke, each wrapped up in their own thoughts, reliving the moment that Dallas crumpled under the streetlight, worrying about Ponyboy's health, grieving for poor Johnny.  
  
As we were turning onto our street, Soda suddenly broke the silence by asking, "Ya'll wanna stay the night with us?"  
  
"I think I'm gonna head back to my house," Two-Bit replied, shifting in his seat. "My old lady's got work in the mornin', so I ought to be there to keep an eye on the bratty kid sister."  
  
Despite everything, I smiled a little at that. Two-Bit may have kept up a tough front, but it was obvious that after everything we'd been through today, he just wanted to go home and be with his family.   
  
"How 'bout you, Stevie?" Soda asked.  
  
"Sure," Steve grunted. "Beats stayin' at home."  
  
It was sad, but true. Steve's house wasn't the kind of place you wanted to spend time at. His father didn't beat him or nothing the way Johnny's did, but the house was always so empty, even when his father was home. It had been that way for as long as I could remember, Steve's father just plain ignored him most of the time, and when he did pay him attention it was to holler at him for every little thing imaginable.   
  
I remember one time when Steve and Soda were about ten, Steve came running to our house in tears because his father had lost his job and blamed it on him. On a ten year old little boy! Mom had made cookies to cheer the boys up, and then sent them outside to play in the yard. She'd stood in the doorway watching them for a long moment, then gave a sad shake of her head and disappeared into the kitchen to do the dishes.  
  
I guess I remember that day so well because it was the first time that I really understood just how hard things were for Steve at home, and it was the first day I saw just how much Mom's heart broke for him because of it.  
  
Soda pulled the truck into the driveway, and we all piled out wearily. Two-Bit gave us a farewell wave as he started off down the street, and the three of us climbed the steps to the porch and went inside the house.   
  
"I'll get ya a blanket and some pillows," Soda told Steve, heading down the hall towards the closet.  
  
"Thanks," Steve replied, dropping down onto the couch with a sigh. He looked up at me with a tired smile, gently easing himself back so his ribs wouldn't be jarred.   
  
"How's that painkiller stuff workin'?" I asked.  
  
"Better than nothin'," he grunted in reply.   
  
"I'm just glad that you're okay," I said quietly. And I was, more than I could say. Johnny and Dallas were both dead, gone forever, and Pony was sick... I don't know what I would have done if the boys had gotten hurt real bad during the rumble.  
  
Steve gave me a curious look, and then asked hesitantly, "You ain't still mad about me backin' Darry's decision to keep ya out of the rumble, are ya?"  
  
"No," I said, shaking my head, and left it at that. I was still a little annoyed that the others thought I needed protecting just because I was a girl, but I wasn't mad. So much had gone so wrong in the past few hours that the rest of it just seemed so unimportant now. "It doesn't matter anymore... it doesn't matter."  
  
It didn't matter because Ponyboy was sick.  
  
It didn't matter because Dally and Johnny...  
  
"Hey," Steve said softly, reaching out a hand to gently brush the tears from my cheek. "It's gonna be alright, Elizabeth, I promise."  
  
"How?" I rasped, my lip quivering. "How is it gonna be alright, Steve? Dallas and Johnny are dead! And Ponyboy..."  
  
"Pony will be fine," he assured me. "He's a tough kid, the toughest. He'll pull through and be good as new in no time, just watch. And... and Johnny and Dally, well, ya gotta figure that maybe things are better for them now, wherever they are."  
  
"Ya think so?" I whispered.  
  
"Not like they could get any worse, huh?" he retorted quietly.  
  
"Yeah," I murmured, and dropped down onto the couch beside him with a sigh. I rubbed my forehead wearily, the headache that had been creeping into my mind over the past few hours starting to get the best of me.   
  
"Headache?" Steve asked.  
  
"Just a little one," I replied. "I'll take some aspirin in a bit."  
  
"I could use some myself," he groaned, touching one hand to his side.   
  
I rolled my eyes. "Ya already have painkillers, the last thing ya need is more."  
  
"And just what is it that I do need then?"  
  
I glanced over at Steve and found he was looking at me with a playful expression. "Truthfully?" I smirked. "A good kick in the-"  
  
"Thanks a lot," he grunted. "I'm an injured man here."  
  
"Poor baby," I chuckled, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "How's that?"  
  
"A little better," he conceded. "But I think I need a higher dosage, doctor."  
  
"Oh, really?" I smiled, leaning towards him. "Is that so?"  
  
"Yeah," he murmured, our lips brushing. "That's so."  
  
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I jumped back, startled, looking up to see Soda standing in the doorway with a pile of blankets and pillows in his arms. "Here," he grunted, tossing them onto the couch. "Hope these'll do."  
  
"They're fine, thanks," Steve replied.  
  
There was a long moment of silence, both of them looking anywhere expect at one another. Sighing, I pushed to my feet. "Well, I'm goin' to bed." Before they could reply, I leaned over and kissed Steve quick on the lips, then turned to Soda, rising up on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "See ya both in the mornin'."  
  
"Night," Steve murmured.  
  
"Sleep well, Lizzie," Soda called.  
  
I slipped off down the hall, but once I rounded the corner I paused, pressing my back against the wall and listening for a moment.   
  
"It's a nice night out," I heard Soda mutter.  
  
"Yeah," Steve agreed.   
  
"Ya wanna step outside for a bit?" Soda asked hesitantly. "Maybe talk?"  
  
"Sure," Steve replied. "I'd like that."  
  
I listened as their footsteps moved across the living room and out onto the front porch, the door banging softly behind them, and smiled. "Looks like they're goin' to work things out civilly after all."  
  
That or Soda was taking it outside so that I wouldn't hear them fighting.  
  
Either way, I was getting a good night's sleep if it killed me.  
  



	20. Twenty

**Chapter Twenty:**  
  
  
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand for what seemed like the thousandth time in an hour, I sighed, leaning back in the chair that Soda had pulled into the bedroom for use when watching over Ponyboy. We were taking shifts so that there was someone sitting with him around the clock, and for the last few hours it had been my turn.  
  
There hadn't been much change in his conditions, but the doctors had assured Darry that all he needed was a lot of rest and time to recover. The longer he slept, the better it was for him, even if it made the rest of us a little uneasy. He'd opened his eyes once or twice, for just a second, and the occasional feverish murmurs could be heard falling from his lips, but for the most part it was pretty uneventful watching over him.  
  
It did, however, give a girl a lot of time to think.  
  
I know that Ponyboy's hardly a kid anymore, he's growing up the way boys do, but to me he'll always be that little boy who used to follow me around and bug me until I sat down to watch Mickey cartoons with him. Someone to protect, to look after and keep out of trouble.  
  
It hits you kind of hard when you realize that you've failed at that.  
  
Here was my baby brother, lying sick in bed, and I hadn't even known he was ill. Two-Bit had been the one to tell us on the way to the hospital that Ponyboy had been running a fever earlier in the day, and he blamed himself for keeping quiet, but all I could think about was that I hadn't even noticed. I'd sat right next to him on the couch while he rubbed his forehead and stared off at nothing, and I hadn't given it a second thought.  
  
And he might not have even ended up like this if I'd just done something about it. Maybe I could have stopped it all, changed everything from turning out the way it did. If I'd just gone after Ponyboy that night when he ran out after Darry hit him...  
  
"I should have gone after ya that night, Ponyboy," I murmured. "If I had, none of this would be happenin'. Ya'll would have never gotten jumped by them Socs, and Johnny and Dallas wouldn't be..." I swallowed hard, my throat burning at the thought of our fallen friends. "If I'd just gone after ya when ya ran outta the house," I rasped, my eyes stinging with tears. "None of this would be happenin'."  
  
With a trembling hand, I reached out to brush a loose strand of hair out of his face. He looked so still, but his skin was pale and clammy, and he was burning up again. Sniffling, I grabbed the wet washcloth from the nightstand and draped it over his forehead gently.  
  
"It's all my fault, baby," I whispered, kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."  
  
"No, it ain't," a voice said from behind me.  
  
Lifting my head, I wiped frantically at my eyes before turning to see Soda standing in the doorway. "What are ya doin' here?" I asked hoarsely. "I thought ya had work."  
  
"Got off early," he grunted. "Steve's coverin' for me."  
  
I nodded absently, adjusting Ponyboy's washcloth a little.   
  
"It ain't your fault, Lizzie," Soda said quietly, but with a firmness in his tone that meant he didn't want to hear any arguments. "None of it. I told ya not to go after him that night, remember? If ya wanna blame anyone, blame me."  
  
"That's crazy," I shook my head. "Ya didn't know what would happen."  
  
"And neither did you," he replied. "No one could have. It's... it's just one of those things that happens, I reckon, and there's nothin' we can do about it. We can't change the past, so there's no point in wishin' we could."  
  
I didn't answer, because even though I knew he was right, I couldn't help feeling like it was all my fault. Bob's death, Johnny and Dallas, the mess with the police and the social services... all of it. I knew it was ridiculous, I didn't need Soda to tell me that, but that's how I felt, and I couldn't do nothing about that, now could I?  
  
Soda leaned against the back of my chair, looking on at Pony with a sad, but affectionate look in his eyes. "Remember when we were kids, how he used to follow us everywhere? He even wanted to play dolls with you an' the girls, if it meant he got to play with ya."  
  
Despite myself, I smiled faintly, dabbing Pony's forehead with the washcloth again. "He was always such a sweet li'l boy."  
  
"Sweet?" Soda echoed incredulously. "Are we talkin' 'bout the same kid?"  
  
"Ha ha," I said, rolling my eyes.   
  
"Don't worry, Lizzie," Soda said after a moment, squeezing my shoulder gently. "Everythin' will be okay, just ya wait and see."  
  
I flashed him a weak smile before turning to place the washcloth back in the bowl on the table. As we sat in comfortable silence, I couldn't help noticing how alike my brothers were, despite all their differences. One thing all four of us have in common is that we don't like to let anyone see us weak, not even each other.   
  
Ponyboy's always been a dreamer, ever since I can remember he's had his head in the clouds, but after Mom and Dad died he got a lot more reserved. Sometimes it scares me how he can lose himself in his thoughts the way he does, and not even know that someone's in the room with him, much less talking to him. But that's how he deals with it all, you know? He's a thinker, and he always has been.   
  
Darry is just the opposite, while they're both quiet by nature, he doesn't let himself dwell on any of the bad stuff. He pushes it aside and throws himself headlong into his work and keeping things together, so that he doesn't have to face things.   
  
Soda hides his pain behind goofy smiles and reckless humor, making jokes and goofing around so that no one sees that he's hurting underneath.  
  
And me? I'm the worst one, I suppose. I push people away, keep everyone at arm's length, even my brothers. When someone gets too close or I feel vulnerable, I lash out, and more often than not I end up hurting the people I care about.   
  
If this family is ever going to get things figured out, I reckon we've all got stuff we need to work on. And our biggest problem is that we never talk, not about the hard stuff. Mostly because it's uncomfortable, for everyone involved, but that's no excuse. Things have got to change if we're gonna stay together.  
  
And I had a good idea of where to start.  
  
"Seems like things are better between you and Steve again," I ventured hesitantly.  
  
Soda stiffened for a moment, then gave an uncomfortable shrug. "I reckon so," he agreed. "It... it's gonna take some gettin' use to, that's all."  
  
"Thank ya for tryin'," I said with a faint smile.  
  
"Anythin' for you, princess," Soda replied with a lopsided smirk. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Ya really like him, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I think so."  
  
"Glory," Soda groaned.   
  
"Oh, hush up," I snapped good-naturedly. "Ya like him just fine."  
  
"Sure I do," Soda agreed. "It's him courtin' my baby sister I ain't so sure about."  
  
"First of all, I'm hardly a baby, Sodapop Curtis," I reminded him with a cool glare. "And second of all, I don't reckon that it's really any of your business one way or the other."  
  
Soda gave me an incredulous look. "My best friend is makin' eyes at my sister, and it's not my business?"  
  
"No, it ain't," I said crossly, pushing to my feet. "I'm sixteen years old, Soda, but in some ways I'm already an adult and ya know it. Besides, ya trust Steve, don't ya? Like ya said, he's your best friend, he ain't gonna do nothin' to hurt that friendship if he can help it."  
  
My brother looked away, shuffling his feet, and I knew I had him.  
  
"And if ya can't trust him with your baby sister," I said with a small pout. "At least ya can trust your baby sister to use her head, right?"  
  
Well, he couldn't right argue with that, now could he? I almost smirked in satisfaction, but managed to keep my expression even as he shifted uneasily. "I just don't wanna see ya hurt, that's all," he said at last.  
  
"I know," I said with a smile. "But ya don't gotta worry, Soda. Steve won't hurt me, and I think deep down ya know that. And besides, I can take care of myself, ya know."  
  
"Yeah," Soda chuckled to himself, no doubt recalling the broken nose I had given that Soc at school. "I reckon ya can at that."  
  
For a moment we stood in silence, and then he moved around me to drop down into the chair I'd been occupying, grabbing the washcloth out of the bowl and ringing it out a little.   
  
"Why don' ya go on an' take a break?" he suggested, pressing the cool cloth to Ponyboy's clammy forehead. "I'll watch him."  
  
I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it. I was kind of hungry, and I hadn't stretched my legs in a few hours. A break might do me some good. "Thanks," I replied, leaning forward to rest my chin on his shoulder and slide my arms around his neck in a casual, but warm embrace. "I appreciate it, Sodapop."  
  
"Like I said, anythin' for you, princess," he retorted with a grin.   
  
I started to pull away, then hesitated, glancing back at Ponyboy's pale face for a moment, my chest tightening of its own accord. "I love you, you know," I said, before I even knew I was going to say anything.   
  
Soda glanced at me, startled for a moment, but then he smiled, a gentle little half-smile. "I know," he replied softly. "I love you, too, Elizabeth."  
  
"Ugh," I groaned, straightening and punching him in the shoulder lightly. "What did I say 'bout callin' me that?"  
  
"Sorry," he chuckled, in a tone that implied he wasn't sorry at all. "I forgot."  
  
"Sure ya did," I muttered, heading for the door. "Just see to it that ya don't forget not to fall asleep watchin' him."  
  
"I won't," he replied indignantly.  
  
"You better not," I retorted, pausing in the doorway to watch as he brushed some of Ponyboy's hair back, and a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips.  
  
Soda was right, somehow, everything would be okay.  
  
  
_A/N: Sorry it is a short chapter, you guys! I've been swamped lately, and haven't had much time to write. The next one will be better, scout's honor! ;)_


	21. TwentyOne

**Chapter Twenty-One:**  
  
  
Glancing at the clock on the wall for what felt like the hundredth time, I sighed, not even attempting to pay attention to whatever my teacher was saying.  
  
Darry had insisted that I attend school, despite Ponyboy's condition, saying that I couldn't afford any unnecessary absences. He was right, I suppose, but that didn't mean I liked being trapped at school while my brother was sick, with no way of knowing what was going on back home.  
  
The schoolday was halfway over, but I didn't think I was going to be able to take it much longer. I couldn't keep my thoughts from drifting to Ponyboy, and what was the point of sitting in class if I couldn't even concentrate?  
  
_I'm out of here, _I thought with a groan, pushing to my feet. Mrs. Carter looked up in surprise and opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again and nodded her approval for me to leave. It was funny, but with everything that had happened I was getting a break at school. Ponyboy would have gotten a kick out of that, I'm sure.  
  
Gathering my books, I let myself out of the classroom as quietly as possible, ignoring the curious looks my classmates gave me and the whispers that passed between them. Shutting the door behind me, I walked briskly down the hall, not breaking stride until I reached the doors to the parking lot, when I realized that I didn't have a way to get home.   
  
I could always walk, it wasn't that far, but I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and I was tired.  
  
So that left me with one other option.  
  
Turning on my heel, I made my way to Mr. Fenton's English class, and peeked in through the door. He was facing the blackboard, writing something about grammar, so I scanned the rows of desks quickly, finding Steve easily enough. He was slouched down in his chair, tapping the end of his pencil on the desk absently, a bored expression on his face. He didn't have any books with him, as usual. Sometimes it amazed me that he managed to get decent grades when he never brought his things to class.   
  
Waving my hand a little, I managed to catch his gaze, and gestured for him to come outside into the hallway. He sat up and said something to Mr. Fenton, most likely asking to be excused to use the bathroom or something, and I stepped out of view as he slipped out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"What's up?" he asked.  
  
"I'm gettin' outta here," I replied bluntly. "I can't take sittin' through another class. Ya mind givin' me a lift home?"  
  
"Sure," Steve said with a lazy shrug. "It's not like I'm learnin' anythin' important today."  
  
I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue with him as we made our way outside to the parking lot. Steve opened the passenger door of his car for me, and despite myself I smiled at the gesture. I've never been real big on the whole chivalry thing, it normally ticks me off to have a guy treating me like I'm not capable of doing something for myself, but for some reason it doesn't bother me anymore when it's Steve. Maybe because now I know that he doesn't see me as some weak little girl, but that he just means to be sweet when he does things like opening my door for me.  
  
We drove in comfortable silence, with the radio turned on by the volume low enough that it wasn't drowning out the rest of the noise around us. About halfway back to the house, Steve took one hand off the wheel to reach over and put his arm around me, so I leaned against his side, closing my eyes for a bit.  
  
When I opened them next, we were pulling into the drive of the house. Straightening, I stretched my arms a little, my shoulders feeling kind of stiff. "Ya wanna come in for a bit?" I asked.  
  
Steve shook his head. "I reckon since we cut out early, I should head on over to the DX station. With Sodapop takin' time off, there's a lot of work needin' to be done." He wasn't complaining, I knew, just stating the obvious. "Besides, ya look right exhausted, it'd be smart for ya to get some sleep."  
  
I smiled ruefully. "I am kinda tired," I admitted.   
  
"See?" Steve said with a lopsided grin. "I'll come by tonight after work and check in with ya'll. Tell Soda and Darry I said hey, alright?"  
  
"Sure," I nodded, leaning across the seat to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Don't work too hard."  
  
"I'll try not to," he replied as I climbed out of the car and shut the door behind me. He backed out of the drive, offering a small wave as he started down the street, and I smiled to myself as I trudged up the stairs to the front door.  
  
As soon as I stepped through the door, I heard someone moving around in the kitchen. "Darry?" I called out.  
  
"Lizzie?" his voice carried into the living room, and a moment later he stepped into the doorway, frowning at me. "What are ya doin' home from school?"  
  
"Got sent home early," I replied with a shrug. "Steve gave me a lift."  
  
Darry narrowed his eyes, looking none too pleased to hear that I was missing almost half of the schoolday, but before he could reply, voices drifted in from the bedroom. "He's awake?" I asked in surprise.  
  
"Yeah," Darry nodded, unable to keep from grinning in relief. "He just woke up a few minutes ago, so I'm makin' him some soup. Soda's in there with him now."  
  
Dropping my stuff down on the couch, I hurried down the hall to the bedroom. Inside Soda was bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed, clad in a pair of jeans and nothing else, talking excitedly to a sleepy-looking Ponyboy, who was sitting propped up against some pillows in bed.  
  
"Pony," I breathed a sigh of relief, moving forward to hug him. "Thank God you're okay," I murmured, brushing his hair away from his eyes and kissing his forehead. "Ya had us scared to death, kid."  
  
"Sorry," he said with a faint hint of a smirk, his voice still a little weak and hoarse.   
  
"Ya better be," I retorted lightly, taking a seat in the empty chair beside the bed. "How are ya feelin'?"  
  
"Not bad," he replied. "Kinda tired, though."  
  
"Yeah, me, too," I said with a small yawn. "I don't think anyone's gotten much sleep since ya got sick. I haven't been able to stay awake in class this week at all."  
  
"Speakin' of which," Soda said, raising an eyebrow. "Why are ya home?"  
  
"Left early," I said simply. "Steve said to tell ya he'll be stoppin' by later, after work."  
  
"He bring ya home?"   
  
"Yeah," I nodded. "He cut out to give me a ride."  
  
"He keep his hands to himself?" Soda demanded.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Why he pawed me to death, Sodapop," I exclaimed sarcastically. "Don't be ridiculous, Steve's got more respect for me than that."  
  
"He better," Soda mumbled under his breath.  
  
"What are ya'll talkin' about?" Ponyboy demanded, a bewildered expression on his face.  
  
Soda and I both started in surprise, exchanging a confused look, and then I realized that Ponyboy didn't know about me and Steve. How would he? He'd been away when we'd gotten together, and things had been so crazy since his return, that no one had ever gotten around to telling him.  
  
"Steve and I are goin' steady," I said slowly.  
  
Ponyboy blinked, once and then twice more, his mouth opening and then closing, speechless. Finally he managed to ask, "When did that happen?"  
  
"While you were gone," Soda grunted. "We didn't find out until after the rumble, right before ya walked in to tell us about..." he trailed off, remembering the doctor's orders to avoid getting Pony upset. "Steve kissed her in front of us," he amended.  
  
"And ya and Darry didn't flatten him?" Pony asked incredulously.  
  
"Believe me," Soda said darkly. "We'd have liked to."  
  
"Sodapop Curtis!" I scolded, smacking him soundly in the back of the head with my hand.  
  
"Well, Ponyboy, what do ya think about all this?" Soda asked, rubbing his head.  
  
"I think maybe I've got a fever," Ponyboy muttered with a groan. "And this is all just a hallucination."  
  
"Ha ha," I said sarcastically. "You're a real riot, Pony. Just be glad you're still sick, or I'd smack ya in the head, too."  
  
"No violence, princess," Darry said as he entered the room, carrying a cup of soup. "Here ya go, kid, eat up."  
  
"Thanks, Darry," Pony said with a weak smile.  
  
"Lizzie, since you ditched school," Darry said, giving me a disapproving look. "How about ya sit tight and keep an eye on Ponyboy for a while. I'm gonna head in to work for a bit, and Soda here looks like he's ready to drop at any moment."  
  
I glanced over at Soda and realized it was true, there were dark circles under his eyes and his mouth was drooping a little, as if he was resisting the impulse to yawn. "Yeah, okay," I nodded. "I reckon I got some readin' to be doin' for school anyway."  
  
"Thanks, princess," Darry said with a smile, squeezing my shoulder in appreciation. "Soda, you go crash on my bed for now, let Ponyboy have some space."  
  
"Sure," Soda agreed, pushing to his feet. "Sleep tight, kid," he said, tossing Pony a wink as he left the room.  
  
"The doctor will be over tomorrow to look in on ya, Ponyboy," Darry told him. "Until then, ya stay put in that bed, ya hear me?"  
  
"Yeah, I hear ya," Pony sighed, leaning back against his pillows.   
  
"Lizzie, I reckon I might be kinda late tonight, so will ya cook up somethin' for you and the boys to eat?" Darry asked me.  
  
"Not a problem," I said, shooing him out of the room. "Get to work." Glancing back at Ponyboy, I said, "I think I'll grab my book, be right back."  
  
"Okay," he yawned.  
  
I headed down the hall to my room and picked up the book from my nightstand, then stopped off in the kitchen to grab myself a Pepsi before walking back to Pony's room.  
  
By the time I lowered myself down into the chair beside his bed, he was already sound asleep.  
  
Smiling to myself, I opened the book to the page I'd marked with a bookmark, and began reading.  
  
  
**A/N: Sorry it's kind of short this time, guys, I've got a lot of work going on right now with school, so I haven't had any time to write, really. I will try to make the next one longer ;)  
  
**


	22. TwentyTwo

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**  
  
  
The doctor came and went, leaving behind orders for Ponyboy to stay in bed for the next week, which didn't sit too well with my baby brother, but Darry saw to it that he stayed put. The first day or so, Pony mostly slept, but after that he was restless, unhappy about being cooped up in bed all day.  
  
Johnny had given the nurse his copy of _Gone With the Wind_, requesting she see it to Ponyboy, so she had handed it to him before the doctors let him check out of the hospital, but it was still sitting untouched on the table beside his bed. He hadn't really even looked at it, as far as I knew, but I guess that was to be expected. He was taking Johnny's death badly, and everyone was walking on eggshells around him, taking care not to mention either Johnny or Dally or anything, for fear he might relapse.  
  
Still, I hated seeing him so bored, so I'd picked up a crossword puzzle book while I was getting the groceries at the store, hoping it might give him something to do for a while. Normally when we do the shopping, Darry and I drive over together, but I'd only wanted to get a few things today, so I'd walked to the grocery store around the corner.   
  
Glancing down at the bags I was carrying, I mentally appraised the amount of food I'd bought for dinner, and decided that it was definitely enough to feed six people, even with boys who ate as much as the ones in our gang.  
  
As I was crossing the street to the house, I noticed a blue Mustang slowing down as it approached. Stepping up onto the sidewalk, I shifted the bags in my arms, staring at the car expectantly as it came to a halt on the curb.  
  
The door opened and out climbed a tall boy about Soda's age, dressed in a pair of khakis and a navy shirt. "Can I help ya with somethin'?" I demanded, and was pleased to see him shift a little, looking a bit nervous.  
  
"Yeah," he said, stepping forward after a moment of hesitation. "My name is Randy Adderson."  
  
"I know who you are," I said coolly. "What do ya want?"  
  
"I was, uh, hoping I could speak to Ponyboy for a bit?" Randy replied, running a hand through his sandy hair. "If he's up to visitors, that is."  
  
He was up to visitors, of course, and plenty of kids from school had dropped by to see him over the past week, but I wasn't going to tell Randy that. Instead I studied him for a long moment in silence, trying to read him. I didn't know what it was he wanted with Pony, but something about him struck me as being sincere.  
  
"I reckon that'd be okay," I said at last. "I'm Lizzie, Ponyboy's sister."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Randy said with a rueful smile. "You used to be on the diving team, right?"  
  
Startled, I nodded. "Yeah, I was," I confirmed, starting up the driveway, gesturing for him to follow.  
  
"Here, let me help you with those," Randy offered, reaching for the bags in my arms.  
  
For a moment I bristled, tempted to snap that I didn't need any help, but I bit my tongue, realizing that he was just trying to be nice. "Thanks," I said, smiling a little as he took the bags from me. "I appreciate it."  
  
"My pleasure," he said, following me up the steps and onto the porch.  
  
Opening the front door, I found Darry sitting in his armchair, reading the paper. He looked up as we came inside, raising an eyebrow when he saw Randy. "Where ya been?" he asked me.  
  
I gestured to the grocery bags Randy was holding. "The store," I replied shortly.   
  
"Who's your friend?" Darry asked, rising to his feet and giving Randy a cool once-over.  
  
"He's here to see Ponyboy," I told him, reaching over to take the bags from Randy. "Thanks again for the help," I said, then slipped away into the kitchen, leaving Darry to handle things. As I started to unpack the groceries, I heard Darry leading him down the hall towards Pony and Soda's bedroom.  
  
"Ponyboy?" his voice drifted down the hall. "There's a guy here to see you, says he knows you. His name is Randy."  
  
"Yeah, I know him," Ponyboy's reply was muted, but still audible.  
  
"You want to see him?"  
  
"Yeah," Pony answered, sounding okay with the idea. "Sure, why not?"  
  
A few minutes later, Darry came to join me in the kitchen, a grim look on his face. He didn't look to happy about Randy being there, but I didn't feel like arguing about it with him, so instead I merely shoved a bag of potatoes into his hands for him to put away in the pantry.  
  
"What did ya go to the store for anyhow?" he asked, as he helped me unload the bags.  
  
"I'm makin' a nice dinner tonight," I declared without looking up from what I was doing. "To celebrate Ponyboy's recovery. I figured we could all use some cheerin' up and all."  
  
"I reckon you're right about that," Darry grunted.  
  
"Of course I am," I said dryly. "I'm always right."  
  
Darry snorted, but didn't reply.  
  
"Where's Sodapop?" I asked, setting aside the chicken on the counter. "He should be home by now."  
  
"He is," Darry responded, reaching over my shoulder to place the bag of rice next to the chicken. "I think he's still in the shower. He really needed some cleanin' up after work today."  
  
Eyeing his dusty clothes and the dirt streaked across his cheek, I wrinkled my nose playfully. "I could say the same to you."  
  
"Ha ha ha," Darry said, swatting me lightly with the loaf of bread before depositing it with the rest of tonight's food. "You're a real riot, princess."  
  
"I try," I quipped, opening one of the cabinets and pulling out a baking dish for the chicken. "As soon as Soda gets out of the shower, tell him to get in here and give me a hand, will ya? Then you go and shower up yourself for dinner."  
  
Darry raised an eyebrow at that, but I just glared right back, and he finally raised his hands in surrender. When he left the room, I grinned to myself, then set about starting dinner.  
  
About five minutes later, Ponyboy's shrill voice echoed through the house. "Johnny is not dead!" he cried angrily. "Johnny's not dead!"  
  
Biting my lip so hard I tasted blood, I closed my eyes, taking a few deep, slow breaths to try and steady my nerves. I was about to head back and see what was going on, but Darry was already taking care of it.  
  
"Hey, Randy? I think you better go now."  
  
"Sure," Randy's voice agreed, and I peered out of the kitchen as they came into the living room.  
  
"Don't ever say anything to him about Johnny," Darry ordered quietly. "He's still pretty racked up mentally and emotionally. The doc said he'd get over it if we gave him time." Looking in my direction, he asked, "Lizzie, show him out, will ya?"  
  
"Right," I said, wiping my hands on a dishtowel and then leading Randy out the front door and onto the porch. Once the door was shut behind us, I grabbed him by the arm. "What did ya say to him?" I hissed.  
  
"Nothing," Randy said, looking bewildered. "I just said that I didn't think he'd get into any trouble with the judge, seeing as how it was his friend who had the knife, and then he started talking nonsense. Saying that it was him who did it, who killed Bob... I don't know what he's babbling on about, we both know it was that Johnny kid."  
  
"It wasn't your fault," I sighed, shaking my head in frustration. "Ponyboy's been... out of it ever since Johnny died. Sometimes it's like he thinks if he keeps denying it enough, it will make it untrue, ya know?"  
  
"Yeah," Randy said softly, looking down at his feet. "I do."  
  
And I reckon he did. After all, Bob had been his best friend. How many times in the weeks since the incident in the park had Randy tried lying to himself, denying that Bob wasn't gone forever?   
  
"Thanks for comin' to see him," I said, forcing a smile.   
  
"I needed to do it," Randy murmured, then looked at me with a frown. "You said you _were_ on the diving team. Why aren't you diving this year?"  
  
"Can't be wastin' my time divin' when there's work to be done," I said with a shrug. "We need the money."  
  
Randy shook his head. "That's a shame, I've seen you dive once or twice, you were really good." Before I could respond, he was trotting down the steps and headed towards his car. I stared after him for a moment, then slipped back into the kitchen.  
  
I was filling up a pot with water to make rice when the front door banged open. "Anybody home?" Two-Bit called, even though he knew perfectly well that there was. The car was out front, after all, and with Ponyboy sick there was always someone at the house.  
  
"In here," I called back, and a moment later he appeared in the doorway with Steve at his heels. "Hi," I said, flashing him a smile. "Get in here and help, you bums."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Two-Bit said with a lazy smirk. "What do ya want us to do?"  
  
"Cut up the bread, will ya?" I asked, gesturing to where it sat on the counter. Without waiting for an answer, I put the pot of water on the burner. "Steve, when this water starts boilin', I need ya to put the rice in for me."  
  
"Sure," he nodded, leaning in to kiss me quickly, then heading over to get a wooden spoon from one of the drawers. "What was that Soc doin' here?"  
  
"Came to see Ponyboy," I replied, checking on the chicken in the oven. "He's one of the guys who was with Bob Sheldon the night they jumped Pony and Johnny in the park."  
  
"Marcia's boyfriend," Two-Bit muttered.  
  
"What'd he want with the kid?" Steve asked, tapping the spoon on the palm of his hand absently as he waited for the water to heat up.  
  
"To talk," I said with a shrug. "About the trial and all, I guess. Ponyboy got a bit riled up, started sayin' that he'd been the one to kill Bob and all. I think he gave Randy a good scare for a bit."  
  
There must have been something in my tone that hinted at my concern over that, because Steve looked up from the pot of water to meet my gaze. "The kid's gonna be fine," he said in a gentle tone, the kind he doesn't use very often. "Don't worry, he's tough enough. He'll pull through just fine, I reckon."  
  
"Yeah," Two-Bit agreed with a grin. "Lord knows how Darry's got the kids to stay in bed this long! I'd be squirmin' like a worm on a fishin' hook by now if it were me."  
  
"If it were you, we'd have to tie ya down to the bed to keep ya there," Soda drawled as he entered the room clad in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt which he'd left unbuttoned. His hair was still damp, proving that Darry had been right about him being in the shower. "What ya makin', princess?"  
  
"Dinner," I said with a smirk. "What's it look like?"  
  
"And we're helpin'," Two-Bit added dryly. "Which is more than I can say for you, ya bum."  
  
Soda stuck out his tongue at him, moving over to get the chocolate milk out of the refrigerator. "Looks like quite a spread ya got worked up here, Sis. What's the occasion?"  
  
"Don't drink outta the bottle," I snapped as he started to raise the milk to his lips. "And there's no real occasion, just thought it would be nice to celebrate Ponyboy's recovery."  
  
"Any excuse to eat is fine by me," Soda retorted, begrudgingly putting the milk down and searching for a cup.  
  
"Ain't that the truth," Steve snickered, stirring the rice. I grinned in his direction as I pulled the chicken out of the oven, and he placed the spoon down, coming over to help me clear a spot on the counter for the chicken pan.   
  
"Thanks," I said as I set it down.   
  
Steve didn't say anything, just offered a small smile as he reached out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His thumb traced the curve of my jaw gently, and my breath hitched slightly at the look in his eyes. Swallowing, I rose onto my toes to kiss him, but was interrupted by a loud groan from Soda.  
  
"Do ya'll hafta do that while I'm eatin'?" he demanded.  
  
Turning, I found him already eating some of the bread Two-Bit had cut up for dinner. "Quit that," I scolded, swatting him with the dishtowel on the counter. "That's for dinner."  
  
"So, it's dinnertime," Soda shrugged. "And I'm starvin'."  
  
Sighing, I shoved his hand away as he reached for more bread. "Go get Darry and Ponyboy, then, and we'll eat." Turning back to Steve and Two-Bit, I rolled my eyes. "Brothers, what a pain."  
  
"You think brothers are bad, try havin' a mouthy kid sister," Soda called over his shoulder as he headed down the hall to get Pony and Darry.  
  
"I ain't a kid," I yelled back.  
  
"No, but ya sure are mouthy enough," Two-Bit smirked.  
  
"Like you have room to be talkin'," Steve snickered.  
  
Two-Bit lifted a piece of bread, narrowing his eyes like he was contemplating throwing it at Steve, but I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "Don't even think about it, pal!"  
  
"He started it," Two-Bit muttered.  
  
"Oh, right," Steve snorted. "Blame it on me."  
  
"Ya could stand to-"  
  
"Would you two quit your yappin' and help me set the table?" I demanded.  
  
"Of course, madam," Two-Bit said with a dramatic, and terribly sarcastic, bow. "Your wish is our command, right, buddy?"  
  
"Sure," Steve shrugged. "Besides, if we don't, she won't feed us."


	23. TwentyThree

**Chapter Twenty-Three:  
**  
  
It was the first time I'd ever stepped foot inside of a courtroom.  
  
Sure, I'd watched plenty of trials on _Perry Mason_ and the like, but this was different, this was a real hearing with a real judge and everything.  
  
And his ruling was going to have a direct effect on my family.  
  
Randy and his parents were there, as were the other guys that jumped Pony and Johnny that night. Cherry was there, too, with her parents along for support. She didn't look nervous, just a little sad, but Randy looked about how I felt- jittery, pale, sick to the stomach. They called him on stand first, and I felt sorry for him.  
  
Darry had made Ponyboy promise to keep his trap shut no matter what anyone else said until he was called on to speak, I think he was worried Pony would say that Johnny hadn't been the one to kill Bob, that it had been him.  
  
I think we were all a little scared he'd do that.  
  
Before the trial even started, the doctor who'd been keeping tabs on Ponyboy met with the judge alone for a bit, to tell him about my brother's condition and to suggest that they avoid any stressful subjects when they put Ponyboy on the stand. Most likely, that meant that Pony wouldn't even be asked about the night of Bob's murder, but none of us told Ponyboy that.  
  
All the Socs told the truth about what happened that night, that they had gone looking for Johnny and Ponyboy in order to rough them up and that Johnny had stabbed Bob in order to defend himself and Ponyboy. When they got to the part about trying to drown Pony in the fountain, they avoided looking in our direction, and with good reason, since both Darry and Soda looked like they were struggling to keep their tempers under control.  
  
When he called Cherry on stand, she recounted everything about that night, from the fight she and Bob had before she and Marcia ended up sitting with the boys at the movies to when Bob and Randy cornered them on the street later that night. She sat straight and tall, her voice steady as a rock, but I could see the tears shimmering in her eyes. She'd lost her boyfriend, a boy she obviously loved quite a bit, but she was trying to be strong and do the right thing, you know?  
  
I kind of admired her for that.  
  
And then it was our turn to go on stand. As Darry had suspected, the judge asked us about Dally. He wanted to know if Dally had been a close friend of ours or not, and it did me proud to see Darry answer without hesitation that, yes, Dally had been. Soda gave Pony a sorrowful look before giving the same answer. As for me, I just said with a shrug that Dally had been family.  
  
He asked us all sorts of questions about our home-life, about how many hours Darry worked, about Soda quitting school to get a full-time job, and about me working part-time at the diner. I was holding my breath hoping he wouldn't ask how many hours I worked, but luckily he didn't. The last thing I needed was for Darry and Soda to find out, much less in a situation like that.  
  
They would have skinned me alive.  
  
The most difficult question the judge asked us was about the night of Bob's murder, the night Ponyboy ran out. Darry's answer was that Ponyboy had come home a little past his curfew and they'd argued, which was basically the truth, just not all of it. Soda and I pretty much echoed what Darry said, not wanting to bring up the fact that Darry had hit Pony. The two of them had moved past that, they were getting along real good now, why take the chance that the judge might screw things up for us?  
  
Finally it was time for Ponyboy to testify. He looked so small as he walked to the front of the courtroom, so vulnerable, and you could practically smell the fear on him. But, as we'd hoped, the judge didn't ask him anything about Bob or that night. He just asked him if he liked living with Darry, Soda and me, if he liked school, how his grades were and all that stuff. Once he was satisfied that Ponyboy was happy at home, he acquitted him and sent us all home.  
  
As we were leaving the courthouse, I spotted Randy and his parents walking towards their car. He glanced back in our direction, and for a moment our eyes met. I nodded slightly, just enough to acknowledge him, and he nodded back, and then we climbed into our respective cars.  
  
When we got home, Two-Bit and Steve were there waiting for us. They both looked up from the television the moment we walked through the door, silently asking what the verdict was.  
  
"Everythin's fine," was all Darry said, as he slipped off his jacket and hung it on the coat-rack, but that was all he really needed to say.  
  
"Glad to hear it," Two-Bit said, ruffling Ponyboy's hair with a grin that I knew he meant to be cocky, but it looked more relieved than anything.  
  
"I'm gonna get some chocolate milk," Soda said, starting for the kitchen. "You guys want any?"  
  
"Yeah," Pony said, collapsing onto the couch with a sigh.   
  
"I'll have one, too, Sodapop," Two-Bit said, following him into the kitchen.  
  
Steve took my hand in his and squeezed it gently. "How ya holdin' up?" he asked softly, his dark eyes searching mine.  
  
"I'm holdin'," I shrugged. "It's been a long day."  
  
"It's been a long week," Steve replied with a sympathetic nod. "How'd the trial go? Was it rough?"  
  
"Yeah," I said quietly, looking down at the floor. "It was rough."  
  
"Hey," Steve lifted my chin with his finger. "You're doing good, kid."  
  
"I thought we talked about this callin' me 'kid' thing," I said wryly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.  
  
"Sorry," Steve grinned. "Habit."  
  
"Well quit it," I insisted. "It's buggin' me."  
  
"I reckon I can try," Steve promised, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek, then stood back and gave me an inquisitive look. "Feel like seein' a movie or somethin' tonight?"  
  
Biting my lip, I shook my head. "Sorry, I promised Tessa an' Emma that I'd get together with them later on. I haven't spent much time with either of them in the past few days."  
  
"S'okay," Steve shrugged. "I guess me and Soda can dream somethin' up to keep ourselves entertained for the night."  
  
"Just not too entertained, hmm?" I raised an eyebrow challengingly. "I just came back from court, I ain't lookin' to be sittin' through another hearin' any time soon, so you boys best keep outta trouble."  
  
"Them?" Ponyboy snorted from the couch. "That'd be about as likely as Two-Bit passin' some of his classes this year."  
  
Steve shot him a glare over my head. "Like you're so good at stayin' outta trouble, kid."  
  
"Hey," I said crossly, swatting him in the chest. "Play nice."  
  
"Sorry," he said, out of obligation more than anything else.  
  
"And you," I said, turning to eye my little brother. "Why don't ya go get to some of that homework I know ya have to catch up on, hmm? The last thing ya need is to fall even further behind."  
  
"Fine," Ponyboy sighed, pushing to his feet and stalking out of the room, a scowl on his face.  
  
"What's up with him?" Steve asked, watching him go.  
  
"I don't right know," I admitted, rubbing my temples wearily. "I reckon it's Johnny and Dally and everythin'. He's been actin' strange ever since."  
  
"It's a hard thing to handle," Steve pointed out. "Especially after losin' your parents last year."  
  
"Yeah," I agreed, sinking down onto the couch in exhaustion. "I just don't know how to help him through, ya know? Pony's always been hard to read, and now... he hardly talks to us anymore. Not me, not Darry, not even Soda. He's off in his own world half the time, and the rest of it he's only here, ya know?"  
  
"It's gonna take time," Steve said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder consolingly. "Ya know that. But Pony's a real tough kid, he'll get his feet under him again."  
  
"I hope so," I murmured.   
  
"I know so," Steve retorted. "After all, his your brother, and you're doin' okay."  
  
"I wasn't as close to Johnny as he was, though," I argued. "And after what the three of them went through together up in Windrixville, I think Dally's death hit him harder than he's lettin' on."  
  
"Maybe so," Steve agreed evenly, sitting down beside me. "But ya help up just fine after your parents died, didn't ya?"  
  
"I was a mess," I mumbled, looking down at my hands as I folded them in my lap. "Ya know that, ya were there, remember?"  
  
"I remember," Steve said slowly, lifting my chin with his thumb. "That you were brave and strong and ya pulled yourself together in order to took care of your brothers. And ya done a good job with that, Lizzie, ya have. And I know it ain't been easy- you and Darry and Sodapop and Ponyboy have had more than your share of troubles, even before this." He lifted a hand to touch my hair gently. "But you'll pull through it together, the way ya always do."  
  
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, my eyes stinging with tears.  
  
"And no matter what," he said softly, his dark eyes boring into mine seriously. "I'll take care of you."  
  
Smiling, I blinked back my tears. "I know," I assured him, and I did. Even before we'd finally gotten our act together, I'd always known that he would look out for me. "Ya always have."  
  
Steve opened his mouth to reply, but just then Soda walked back into the room, with Two-Bit at his heels, and took one look at us, then groaned. "Do ya'll have to do that lovey-dovey junk in public?"  
  
"We ain't in public," I snapped. "I happen to live here, in case ya failed to notice that."  
  
"How could I?" Soda shot back as he took a gulp of his chocolate milk. "As loud as ya are, it'd be hard not to notice ya."  
  
"Ha ha," I said sarcastically. "Look who's talkin'."  
  
"Would ya two quit your bickerin'?" Darry's voice carried in from the kitchen, and a moment later he appeared in the doorway to the room behind Soda. He looked around for a moment, then frowned. "Where's Ponyboy?"  
  
"His room," I replied. "Kid got mouthy, so I sent him to do some schoolwork."  
  
"Mouthy?" Two-Bit snickered, elbowing Soda in the side. "This comin' from Lizzie Curtis?"  
  
"Shut your trap, Two-Bit," Darry said evenly, not even bothering to look at him. "What'd he say?" he asked me, and I knew he was talking about Ponyboy.  
  
"Just talk," I shrugged. "He was being surly again."  
  
Darry sighed, shaking his head, his frustration visible on his face. "I don't know what we're gonna do about him," he grumbled to himself. "That kid is headin' down a bad road if he keeps actin' the way he is."  
  
"He'll be fine," Soda said dismissively, dropping down onto the couch beside me. "Turn on the television, would ya?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Darry obliged him, then headed back towards his own room to change out of his dress clothes. Two-Bit sat down on the floor in front of the couch, his chocolate milk in hand. "Let's watch Mickey," he suggested, which didn't really come as a surprise.  
  
"Whatever ya want," Soda said, giving him permission to change the channel. Leaning his head back, Soda peered around me at Steve. "What's on the agenda for tonight?"  
  
"What do ya have in mind?" Steve asked. "Lizzie here's ditchin' me for the girls, so I'm all yours, buddy."  
  
"I ain't ditchin' nobody," I said, pushing to my feet and starting towards my room.  
  
"Where ya goin'?" Steve called.  
  
Turning back, I fixed a smirk on my face. "To make myself look pretty, what else? After all, who knows what tuff lookin' guys we might pick up tonight, right?"  
  
A scowl crossed his face, but I just smiled sweetly and turned down the hall, Soda's laughter filling the room behind me. "Very funny!" Steve called dryly.   
  
"Do ya hear me laughin'?" I yelled back, but despite myself I grinned.  
  
Sometimes it was just too much to argue with him.  
  
  



	24. TwentyFour

**Chapter Twenty-Four:  
**  
  
"What time are you workin' until tonight?" Emma asked as we pushed open the doors leading out into the school parking lot.   
  
"Seven," I sighed, shaking my hair out of my eyes.   
  
"Didn't you work last night, too?" Emma frowned, giving me a concerned glance.  
  
"And the night before that," I nodded. "I'm exhausted."  
  
"What do the boys think you've been doin' all week?" Emma inquired.   
  
"Stayin' late to work on divin', no doubt," I shrugged. "Darry asked once, and that's what I told him. He hasn't asked since, so I reckon he just assumed that's where I was."  
  
Emma let out a disgruntled noise. "This is going to all blow up in your face one of these days, girl. Darry's gonna skin ya alive when he finds out the truth."  
  
"Probably," I agreed grimly. "But at least we'll have some money saved up."  
  
"I still don't..." Emma trailed off, rolling her eyes. "Incoming," she warned softly, and I looked up to see Steve headed in our direction. "Want me to meet you at the diner?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah," I nodded. "Thanks."  
  
As she hurried off in the other direction, I walked towards Steve, smiling as I reached him. "Hi," he said with a grin, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. "How was your day?"  
  
"Okay," I shrugged, letting him steer me towards his car, where Two-Bit and Ponyboy were waiting. "I struggled on my math test, but I reckon I passed. Anythin' eventful happen with ya'll?"  
  
Steve hesitated a moment, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Pony gave us a bit of a scare at lunch today," he admitted. "We were at the grocery store, and some Socs were hassling him outside. Two-Bit and I were ready to back him, but he busted his Pepsi bottle and scared 'em off."  
  
"Glory," I groaned in frustration.  
  
"On the bright side," Steve said with a weak smile. "He picked up the glass."  
  
I blinked, startled. "He what?"  
  
"He picked up the glass," Steve grinned down at me. "Didn't want somebody gettin' a flat tire or somethin', I reckon."  
  
That was the end of the conversation, since we reached the car, and both Two-Bit and Ponyboy looked up at us as we approached. "Hey there, Lizzie," Two-Bit grinned, taking a swig of a can wrapped in a brown paper bag.  
  
"Isn't it a little early for beer, Two-Bit?" I asked dryly, dropping my jacket and books into the front seat of the car.   
  
"It's never too early for beer, kid," Two-Bit retorted, taking another gulp.  
  
"Right," I rolled my eyes, then smiled over at Ponyboy. "Hey there, li'l brother. How ya doin'?"  
  
Ponyboy shrugged, staring down at his feet absently. He'd been doing that a lot lately, and to be honest his silence was starting to bug me.   
  
"I'm fine, Lizzie, thanks for asking," I drawled sarcastically. "How are you?"  
  
"Sorry," Pony said with a faint trace of a rueful smile. "Long day and all."  
  
"I hear ya," I said with a yawn.  
  
"Ya need a ride home?" Steve asked, moving around the car to open the driver's door. "Or are ya stayin' for practice?"  
  
"I'm stayin'," I replied, not looking at him as I said it. It didn't feel right, lying to him and all, but sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do.  
  
"Okay, then," Steve said with a lopsided grin. "I reckon we'll see ya back at the house for dinner tonight, then?"  
  
"Yep," I confirmed, scooping up my books. "I'll see ya'll then."  
  
"Have fun," Two-Bit smirked.  
  
"I'll try," I murmured, offering Steve one last wave before heading back into the school. I made my way through the halls, then came back outside through the front entrance, and started down the sidewalk towards the diner.  
  
It was only about a five minute walk, but as tired as I was, it seemed to take forever. As soon as I walked through the door, I knew it was going to be a long night- nearly every table and booth was full already.   
  
"There you are," Emma said teasingly, coming out from behind the counter with a tray full of sundaes in hand. "I was beginnin' to think ya got lost."  
  
"Sorry," I said, stepping back so she could slip past me. "Got caught up for a bit."  
  
"With lover boy involved, I figured," she flashed me a smile as she hurried towards one of the back tables, and I rolled my eyes before heading back into the back room to change into my uniform.   
  
When I emerged a few minutes later, my hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and my school clothes exchanged for the light blue waitress dress. I paused to grab my order-pad off of the counter, accepting the pen that Ray handed to me with a faint smile, and then started towards my section of tables.  
  
About twenty minutes into my shift, I already had a headache, and it was just my luck that all of my tables were full. The last empty booth had just been taken, so I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, gulped it down, then headed back out to the booth.  
  
"What can I can get for ya?" I asked without looking up from my order-pad.  
  
"How about a plate of answers and a side of explanation?" a familiar voice replied gruffly.  
  
Blinking, I jerked my head up in shock to find Steve sitting in the booth, staring back at me with an unreadable expression on his face. "What are ya doin' here?" I demanded at last.  
  
"You left your jacket in the car," he answered quietly, lifting up my coat from the seat beside him. "I went to drop it off at the pool, but Coach Durham says you ain't divin' this year. Care to explain that?"  
  
For a moment I felt the urge to act like a petulant child and inform him that no, I didn't care to explain, but I knew that was just my exhaustion kicking in. Swallowing, I glanced over at the counter, and was lucky enough to catch Ray's eye. He looked at Steve, saw the dark look on his face, and nodded for me to go ahead.   
  
"Can we talk about this outside?" I murmured, not looking Steve in the eye.  
  
"Whatever ya want," he shrugged, pushing to his feet and starting for the door without another word. I stood there for a moment, biting my lip, and then picked up my jacket from the table with a frustrated sigh. I paused to hand it to Emma as she came out of the kitchen, and she blinked, startled, but her eyes widened in understanding as she caught sight of Steve heading out the door into the parking lot.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I followed him outside, letting the diner door swing shut behind me. Steve had settled down on the edge of the curb, staring out at nothing, and after a moment's hesitation I lowered myself down beside him, likewise gazing off into the distance.  
  
"I've been pullin' double shifts to bring in some extra money at home," I began without preamble. Knowing what the next question out of his mouth would be, I continued, "I've been doin' it all semester."  
  
Steve cursed under his breath, then glanced over at me, dark eyes glittering angrily. "Darry's already workin' two jobs," Steve argued. "And Soda's full-time at the DX station. Ain't that enough?"  
  
"It's enough to scrape by, sure," I shrugged helplessly. "But what about the future, Steve? What about when Ponyboy heads to college? As it is, he'd have to get a full scholarship to go to any of the decent schools, and I want him at one of 'em. I want him out of this mess, I want a better life for him. He's smart, Steve, really smart, and he could go places in this world. Places that me and Darry and Soda can only dream about."  
  
"And you think that's a reason for lettin' your own grades suffer?" Steve demanded.  
  
"They aren't sufferin'," I shot back. "I ain't ever got anythin' lower than a C, and that hasn't changed. My grades are fine, Steve. I'm gonna graduate and all, no problem. And then I'll get a full-time job and keep puttin' money in the bank for Pony."  
  
"You could go to college, too, ya know," Steve said quietly. "You're smart enough."  
  
"Maybe," I shrugged. "But let's face it, divin' was my only real chance of gettin' in anywhere decent, and Ponyboy's future is more important than mine."  
  
"That's not true," Steve protested.  
  
"Yes, it is," I said firmly. "Steve, I could spend the rest of my life workin' and raisin' a family and I'd make do, but that ain't Ponyboy. He needs somethin' more than that, and I intend to give it to him."  
  
Steve studied me in silence for a long moment, then shook his head in disbelief. "You're really somethin', kid, anybody ever tell ya that?"  
  
"I'm not a kid," I reminded him quietly.  
  
"No," Steve agreed again, as he had that day in his car when he kissed me for the first time, but this time when he looked at me there was something different in his eyes, something akin to respect and admiration. "Ya sure ain't. Sometimes I reckon you're more grown-up than any of us, even Darry."  
  
"That's ridiculous," I snorted.  
  
"Is it?" Steve asked, reaching out to gently brush a loose strand of hair from my eyes. "Ya keep your family strong and together, ya kept me and the boys from wanderin' too far off the road, and ya always put us back in our places again if we did."  
  
Despite myself, I felt my cheeks flush, and I looked away in embarrassment.  
  
"You're an incredible woman, Elizabeth," he murmured.  
  
Swallowing, I lifted my gaze to meet his and kissed him, long and hard, and when I pulled away he raised an eyebrow in my direction. "What was that for?" he asked.  
  
"For seein' me," I answered with a small smile. "Even when no one else does."  
  
"I always see you," Steve replied lightly, flashing me a smile of his own as he pushed to his feet. "And I'll see you later tonight. What time are ya gettin' off?"  
  
"Seven," I answered with a sigh. "If ya'll are comin' over for dinner, it won't be ready until eight, most likely."  
  
"Darry workin' late, too?" Steve inquired.  
  
"Yeah," I nodded. "I think 'till eight."  
  
"Then maybe Sodapop will whip somethin' up instead," Steve suggested.  
  
I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Don't count on it."  
  
"You never know," Steve said with a sly grin as he headed towards his car. "He might just surprise ya."  
  
"Hmm," I murmured, watching as he unlocked the door. "Steve?"  
  
"Huh?" he asked.  
  
"Make sure he doesn't burn the house down, then, okay?"  
  
Steve grinned. "Sure thing."  
  
With a final wave of my hand, I slipped back inside the diner, and got back to work with a smile on my face.  
  
Somehow, though, the hours ticked by quicker than usual that night.


	25. TwentyFive

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**  
  
  
Sighing, I opened the front door and trudged inside the house wearily, letting the door bang closed behind me.  
  
I winced at the noise, which drew Darry in from the kitchen. "There ya are," he muttered, coming towards me. "Sodapop cooked dinner, we were just about to sit down and eat."  
  
"Sorry," I said, stifling a yawn. "Got held up."  
  
"S'okay," Darry grunted, stepping forward to take my jacket for me.   
  
"What are we havin'?" I asked, shrugging my bag down onto the couch. "Green pancakes?"  
  
Darry shook his head, a frown creasing his face. "Chicken and rice," he replied evenly.  
  
Startled, I lifted my head to fix him with an incredulous look. "Regular chicken and rice? Nothin' different or strange about it?"  
  
Darry nodded wordlessly, and I knew now why he looked so disturbed. Soda is as original as his name, and whenever he's the one in the kitchen, our food usually ends up coming out looking like something out of one of those Sci-fi movies Two-Bit loves watching. It almost always tastes good, so we've learned to live with his creative culinary skills, besides it's kind of fun not knowing what he'll think up next.  
  
"He was smokin' this afternoon when I got home, too," Darry added grimly, and I bit my lip. Soda hardly ever smoked, not unless he was anxious or upset about something, or trying to look tough, of course.   
  
_Great, _I muttered to myself._ Just what I need. _After a hideously long day at work, all I'd wanted was a nice peaceful evening, but if Soda was all twisted up about something, things wouldn't stay quiet for long.   
  
I instantly felt bad for thinking that way, especially when my brother was obviously upset about something, but I couldn't help it. It had been a week since Steve found out about my double shifts, and I'd worked every day since. I was tired, my head was killing me, and I had a stack of homework that was threatening to topple down on my head. I wanted to scream in frustration.  
  
Instead, I asked, "Where's Ponyboy?"  
  
"In his room," Darry answered, glancing past me towards the closed door of the bedroom Pony and Soda shared. "Workin' on that theme essay Mr. Syme assigned him." His eyes narrowed sharply, "Or at least he'd better be," he muttered gruffly.  
  
I sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "He still hasn't gotten any work done on it?" I asked.  
  
"Nope," Darry shook his head. "At this rate, I'm beginnin' to wonder if he ever will."  
  
"Want me to talk to him?" I asked wearily.  
  
"Let me handle him," Darry replied, blowing out a long hiss of air. "The way he's been actin', he ain't likely to listen to any of us, but I'm gonna have to try and make him see reason somehow."  
  
"What about Soda then?"   
  
Darry shook his head. "Just let him be for now. Ya know how he is, he likes to keep things to himself- kinda like you, princess."  
  
I gave him a sheepish smile, partly to cover up my own discomfort at the unintentional reminder that I was keeping quite a bit to myself these days. "Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go give Soda a hand, why don't ya go get Ponyboy for dinner?"  
  
"Let's see if he's really doing his homework or not," Darry mumbled under his breath as he stalked past me towards the bedroom.  
  
Not waiting around to see what the answer was, I headed for the kitchen, pausing in the doorway when I saw Soda stirring the rice absently, a distant look on his face. Swallowing, I called out, "Need some help?"  
  
Soda shook himself free of whatever reverie had taken hold of him and shrugged. "Ya could set the table if ya want."  
  
"Sure," I nodded, and walked over to the cabinets to pull out the plates. I glanced over at Soda as I hunted for the silverware, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something. He looked about as depressed as he had right after Mom and Dad's accident, and I hated seeing him like that. But Darry had said to give him some time, so that's what I was going to do.  
  
A few minutes later Ponyboy and Darry joined us, Pony grumbling to himself as he dropped down into his chair at the table, and Darry clenching his jaw tightly, clearly annoyed with our little brother. His expression was stony as he marched over to the refrigerator and pulled out the chocolate milk, so I grabbed four glasses and sat them on the counter for him. He gave me a small look of gratitude, then glared at Ponyboy before starting to pour the milk.   
  
I groaned to myself, knowing this dinner wasn't going to end well.  
  
Soda was quiet throughout the entire meal, which was even more disconcerting than hearing he'd been smoking or eating normal colored food. More than once I exchanged a concerned glance with Darry, but he just shook his head, signaling me to leave it alone.  
  
After dinner Ponyboy dumped his dishes in the sink and headed for the front door.  
  
"Ponyboy?" I called, a little sharper than I'd meant to, and he turned to scowl at me.  
  
"What?" he demanded impatiently, sounding as surly as one of the Brumly boys.  
  
"Where do ya think you're goin'?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though I had the urge to throttle him at the moment.  
  
"Out," Ponyboy grunted, and started for the door again.  
  
"Like hell you are," Darry snapped. "You're goin' to sit down and start that theme, kid."  
  
"No, I'm not," Ponyboy said petulantly. "I'm goin' out for a ride."  
  
"I don't think so, pal," Darry said angrily. "You've been puttin' that homework off for too long. Now get your tail in there and start workin', before I skin your hide."  
  
"What's the sweat about my schoolwork?" Ponyboy shouted. "I'll get a job as soon as I'm out of school anyway. Look at Soda, he's doing okay and he dropped out. So you can just lay off!"  
  
"You're not gonna drop out," Darry argued. "Listen, with your brains and grades, you could get a scholarship, and we could put you through college."  
  
Ponyboy snorted, and I pressed my lips together tightly. Yeah, we could put him through college, especially if he got a scholarship. With the money I'd been saving up, he could probably go even if he didn't get a scholarship, but not if his grades keep slipping.  
  
"But school work's not the point," Darry continued. "You're living in a vacuum, Pony, and you're going to have to cut it out. Johnny and Dallas were our buddies, too, but you don't just stop livin' because you lose someone."  
  
I drew in a sharp breath of air, startled to hear Darry bringing them up, especially after he'd been the one to insist we make sure not to. The doctor had been real clear about how fragile Ponyboy was emotionally, and that talking about Johnny or Dallas or any of the events that took place that week was a bad idea. It would only shake him up.  
  
But maybe Darry was onto something. Everything else we'd tried so far had failed, maybe what Pony really needed now was a good shaking up.  
  
"I thought ya knew that by now," Darry snapped. "You don't quit! And anytime you don't like the way I'm runnin' things, you can get out."  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ponyboy snarled. "You'd like me to just get out. Well, it's not that easy, is it, Soda?"  
  
He glanced over at Soda as if he expected him to take his side, but Soda had gone pale and white, his eyes glossy with feverish tears, and he was shaking something fierce. "Don't..." he rasped, his voice quaking. "Oh, you guys, why can't you..."  
  
He trailed off, overcome with emotion, and bolted out the door before anyone could stop him.  
  
"Soda!" I called after him, frightened by his behavior, and then turned to look at Darry for answers. He reached down and picked up an envelope that must have fallen from Soda's pocket, and his face went blank.   
  
"It's the letter he wrote Sandy," he said quietly, and then lifted his gaze to meet mine. "Returned unopened."  
  
"I'll kill her," I muttered under my breath, and right then I very well might have.   
  
Ponyboy frowned, clearly disturbed by Soda's reaction, and just as clearly confused by what was going on. He hadn't been here when Sandy left town, and the only explanation he'd been given had been that she'd gone to live with her grandmother in Florida. No one had bothered to fill him in on the real story, and right then I was wishing someone had. Maybe Darry and I should have told him, but I reckon we were trying to let Soda tell him himself when he was ready.  
  
Now, though, Ponyboy needed to know the whole story, and it looked like it was up to us to tell him.  
  
"When Sandy went to Florida..." Darry began slowly. "It wasn't Soda, Ponyboy. He told me he loved her, but I guess she didn't love him the way he thought she did, because it wasn't him."  
  
"You don't have to draw me a picture," Ponyboy muttered uncomfortably, and from the pitiful look in his eyes I knew that he understood what Darry was trying to tell him.   
  
"He wanted to marry her anyway, but she just left," Darry said, shaking his head in dismay. "He cried every night that week you were gone. Both you and Sandy in the same week."  
  
"It tore him up," I added softly.  
  
"Come on," Darry said, setting the envelope down on the chair and starting for the door with a grim resolve on his face. "Let's go after him."  
  
"Yeah," Ponyboy agreed, and together we hurried outside, letting the door bang shut behind us as we bounded down the steps and took off down the street.   
  
Before leaving the diner I had changed back into my school clothes, for which I was suddenly very grateful, because running in a waitress' dress and shoes would not have been easy. My jeans and sneakers were much better suited for chasing down runaway brothers, and the button-up plaid long-sleeved shirt I had donned over my white camisole top kept me warm enough in the slightly chilly evening air.   
  
All three of us were decent runners, but Ponyboy has always been the fastest. Even out of shape from his ordeal, he still had the best chance of catching Soda, and we all knew it,  
  
"Circle around and cut him off," Darry ordered Ponyboy. "We'll stay right behind him."  
  
"Right," Pony nodded, then took off at an angled sprint.  
  
We were gaining on Soda, at least enough that we could see him up a hundred yards or so ahead. I don't even know if he realized we were after him or not, he just seemed wrapped up in running. I've had days like that, when you just want to run and forget about everything else. Mostly after Mom and Dad died, when it all just felt like too much, you know?  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ponyboy weaving through the trees in the distance, and Soda must have seen him, too, because he started to veer off sharply, but Ponyboy was already on him. Hitting him with a solid tackle that would have done Darry proud, he took Soda down to the ground, and they were both still laying there gasping for air when Darry and I came running up a moment later.   
  
Soda grunted, sitting up and wiping the grass from his shirt. "Ya should have gone out for football instead of track," he mumbled.  
  
"Where did ya think ya were goin'?" Ponyboy asked, still sprawled out on his back next to him.  
  
"Good question," I said, giving Soda a weak smile as I dropped down beside him. Darry lowered himself to the ground across from us, peering at Soda with a concerned expression.  
  
Soda shrugged. "I don't know. It's just... I can't stand to hear ya'll fight."  
  
Have you ever had a moment where you just feel like a complete and utter jerk? That was one of those moments for me. I had another reason for working as much as I did, one I didn't even admit to myself until right then, but as much as we needed the money, I also just didn't want to be around to listen to Darry and Ponyboy hollering at each other. I'd never realized how badly it was hurting him to hear all that arguing all the time.  
  
"Sometimes... I just have to get out or... it's like I'm the middleman in a tug o' war and I'm bein' split in half. Ya dig?" Soda sighed, fiddling with some of the grass blades beneath his fingers. "I mean, I can't take sides. It'd be a lot easier if I could, but I see both sides. Darry yells too much and tries too hard and takes everything too seriously, and Ponyboy, you don't think enough, you don't realize all Darry's giving up just to give you a chance he missed out on." Soda leveled Ponyboy with a serious look, trying to make him understand what we'd both known from the start, but what Ponyboy had never really seemed to grasp. "Lizzie and I are old enough that we probably could have worked somethin' out with the courts to get out on our own, so he could have just left us to fend for ourselves and stuck you in a home somewhere so he could work his way through college."  
  
And sometimes I wondered if maybe he shouldn't have. It was unfair, to saddle him with this much responsibility, to dump three kids in his lap and force him to work so much and so hard that he was getting old too fast. Maybe that was another reason for working as much as I did, to try and lighten the load on Darry's shoulders, to carry my own weight as much as possible, so that he didn't have to struggle to provide for me.  
  
"Ponyboy, I'm telling you the truth," Soda insisted, pleading for him to listen. "I dropped out because I'm dumb. I really did try in school, but you saw my grades. Look, I'm happy working in a gas station with cars. You'd never be happy doing something like that. And Darry, you ought to try to understand him more, and quit bugging him about every little mistake he makes. He feels things differently than you do."  
  
That was the truth, Ponyboy felt things differently from just about everybody I'd ever met. He was as original a person as Dad was.  
  
"Golly, you two, it's bad enough having to listen to it, but when you start trying to get me to take sides..." Soda rasped, tears welled up in his eyes. "We're all we've got left. We ought to be able to stick together against everything. If we don't have each other, then we don't have anything."  
  
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly painfully dry.  
  
"If you don't have anything, you end up like Dallas... and I don't mean dead, either," Soda shook his head. "I mean like he was before. And that's worse than dead. Please," he begged, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Don't fight anymore."  
  
For a long moment we all sat in silence, Soda sniffling and trying to stop his tears, Ponyboy staring down at the ground with his lower lip trembling, me biting my lip as tears blurred my vision, and Darry watching us all with concern evident in his eyes.  
  
"Sure, little buddy," he said softly. "We're not going to fight anymore."  
  
"Hey," Soda directed a tearful smile at me and Ponyboy. " Don't ya'll start cryin', too. One bawl-baby in the family's enough."  
  
"I ain't cryin'," Ponyboy protested, even as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks.  
  
"Well, I am," I said with a hoarse laugh that sounded more like a sob than I would have liked, and flung myself at Soda, wrapping my arms around him as tight as I could. He was startled for a moment, then hugged me back, and we clung to each other for a long moment, trying to calm our roller-coaster emotions.   
  
I felt a hand touch my hair gently but deliberately, and I lifted my head to see Darry gazing down at us both with a gentle expression on his hardened face. "Don't worry," he said, cracking a weak smile. "We won't tell anyone."  
  
Choking out a laugh, I let go of Soda and sat up, wiping my eyes on the back of my hands. "If ya do, I swear me and Soda here will jump ya both, right, Sodapop?"  
  
"Right," he agreed with a rueful smile.  
  
"So it's settled, then," I said, rocking back on my heels. "Darry will try not be such a stiff, and Ponyboy will try not to be such a punk."  
  
"And what about you, huh?" Ponyboy shot back.   
  
I gave him a smug look. "Unlike you two cretins, I don't cause trouble."  
  
"No, trouble just seems to find you," Darry muttered.  
  
"I think Lizzie ought to come clean about what she's been up to these past few months," Soda said quietly, and when I looked over at him he met my gaze evenly. There was nothing challenging in his eyes, but he was prodding me to tell them just the same.  
  
"Steve tell you?" I asked calmly.  
  
Soda shook his head. "He didn't have to, I figured it out on my own a long time ago."  
  
"So why didn't ya rat me out?" I wanted to know.  
  
"Figured ya had a good reason for doing what ya did," Soda shrugged.   
  
"And just what is it that ya did, Elizabeth?" Darry demanded seriously.  
  
Sighing, I decided I might as well get it over with. "I've been workin' double shifts at the diner all semester."  
  
Darry's face scrunched up into one of confusion. "When the hell have ya been able to find time to..." he trailed off, and his eyes narrowed sharply. "Ya aren't divin' are ya?"  
  
Ponyboy blinked, and turned to stare at me incredulously, blatantly shocked.  
  
"No," I confessed softly, my gaze lowering to the ground. "I'm not."  
  
"Dammit, Lizzie," Darry shouted. "What were ya thinkin'?! Divin' is what's gonna get ya into college!"  
  
"Not sure if I'm goin' to college or not yet," I shrugged, and Darry's expression turned even more murderous. "Besides, we need the money."  
  
"We're gettin' by as it is," Darry snapped. "You let me and Soda worry about money, ya hear? All ya need to worry 'bout is school."  
  
"Darry, maybe-" Soda began gently, but I cut him off.  
  
"I've got over a thousand dollars saved up," I informed them, and all three of my brothers looked at me in surprise. "That's enough to pay for at least two years of schoolin' for Ponyboy at just about any college in the country."  
  
For a long moment there was an uncomfortably tense silence hanging in the air, which was finally broken by Soda. "See? Told ya she had a good reason," he offered with a faint smile.  
  
"Is that why you've been working so much?" Darry asked, somehow managing to keep his expression completely blank of emotion. "To save up college money for Ponyboy?"  
  
I shrugged, not really feeling like explaining myself any further.  
  
"Lizzie, you shouldn't be-" Ponyboy started to argue.  
  
"Hush up, kid," I said sternly, not bothering to look away from Darry. "It's my money and I'll do what I like with it. You're goin' to college, and that's final. I won't have ya settlin' when ya could go places in life."  
  
Darry was looking at me strange, like he'd never seen something quite like me before, and it was more than a little unnerving. There was something evaluating in his gaze, not really judgmental, more like appraising.  
  
After a long moment, he shook his head. "Ya always did take after Mom," he murmured.  
  
"If ya ask me," Soda observed evenly. "She takes after you, Darry."  
  
I could tell that had never occurred to Darry before, and he gave me a long look before he nodded absently. "Looks that way." He narrowed his eyes, giving me a stern look that made him look remarkably like Dad. "I ought to skin your hide for pullin' a stunt like this, Elizabeth, but I ain't gonna. I reckon you use your head more than I realized, just not always in the most orthodox of ways.   
  
"That's an understatement if I ever heard one," Soda snickered to himself.  
  
"And I reckon you can keep workin' some extra shifts is it means that much to ya," Darry continued, ignoring him. "But you're gonna have to cut back some on hours, cause you're gonna go to Coach Durham and do whatever it takes to get your spot back on the team."  
  
I opened my mouth to protest, but Darry gave me a sharp look, holding up a hand to silence my objections.  
  
"If ya have to, work somethin' out with him so that ya can miss some of your practices," Darry said with a grunt. "But you're not goin' to throw away your own future for Ponyboy's. If ya decide not to go to college, that's fine, but it won't be because ya couldn't get a scholarship. Now, midterm grade reports are comin' out soon, am I gonna have a nasty surprise when yours arrive?"  
  
"No," I said, annoyed that everyone automatically seemed to think that. "My grades are all fine. Nothin' lower than a C, just like I promised. In fact, I reckon I might have pulled off nothin' lower than a B this quarter, but I ain't sure."  
  
"Fine," Darry nodded. "But if your grades start slippin', you're gonna quit the diner and focus on school, ya hear? I'm only gonna give ya one warnin'."  
  
"Okay," I agreed.  
  
"And no more secrets, ya hear?" Darry demanded. "That goes for all of ya'll."  
  
"I hear ya," I sighed.  
  
"That goes for ya'll, too," Darry informed Ponyboy and Soda. "No more secrets, and no more fights, not if we can help it."  
  
They both nodded.  
  
"Good," Darry said, and just like that it was settled. Ponyboy and Darry would still disagree and bicker from time to time, they were too different not to, but they'd try to work together now, instead of fighting each other the whole way. And as for me and Soda, well, we'd just have to learn to share our problems with the rest of the family a little bit better, now wouldn't we?  
  
"Well, I'm cold," Soda announced, pushing to his feet. "Let's go home."  
  
  
**A/N: Don't worry, there are a few more chapters left in this story :) Hope you guys enjoyed the latest update! **  
  



	26. TwentySix

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**  
  
  
The DX station is always the busiest in the middle of the afternoon, about an hour or so after the schools let out.   
  
On any given day, you can find at least a dozen kids hanging out in the general store attached to the station, but on Fridays the number always doubled. There was something about having an entire weekend ahead of you that seemed to draw kids there in packs.  
  
I got a lift over to the station from Mikey, who was taking Tessa out for burgers and fries before heading off to the drive-in together. For the most part I tuned out their conversation on the ride there, but I did look up when Mikey announced that he was going to see Curly up at juvie hall in the morning.   
  
As I climbed out of Mikey's car, I asked him to make sure he said hello to Curly for me, and he promised he would, so I waved to Tessa before shutting the car door and starting across the parking lot towards the garage.  
  
I found Soda and Steve inside, hard at work. Or rather, Steve was hard at work, bent over the engine of a flashy-looking Firebird, a wrench in hand as he tinkered with something under the hood. Soda was leaning up against the wall, drinking a soda, and surrounded by dreamy-eyed girls who giggled at everything he said.  
  
_How typical, _I thought, rolling my eyes. No one would ever accuse Soda of not working hard for his money, but whenever he went on break it was like some kind of alarm went off, alerting the girls in town that it was open season.  
  
Soda was the first to spot me over the heads of the girls crowded around him, and he pushed off the wall, grinning. "Hi there, li'l sister," he called out. "What brings ya here today?"  
  
"Certainly not you, Sodapop," I drawled, dropping my things down onto one of the empty chairs by the vending machine.  
  
"Then you'd be the only one," Soda retorted, winking at his fan-club. "Right?"  
  
"Right," they chorused with love-struck sighs.  
  
"Why don't ya quit makin' eyes at them girls and actually do some work for once?" I asked him sarcastically, glancing over at the Firebird as Steve looked up in my direction.   
  
"Him? Work?" Steve snickered. "That'll be the day."  
  
"I'll have you know I work plenty," Soda informed us both, turning up his chin dramatically, which only served to derive even more giggling out of the girls drooling over him.  
  
"Sure ya do," I called back without bothering to look at him as I made my way over to the Firebird. "Hey," I smiled at Steve.  
  
"Hey yourself," he replied, closing the hood of the car and wiping his hands on one of the oil rags that he kept tucked into his belt. "How'd it go with Coach Durham?"  
  
"Not bad," I shrugged. "A bit of grovelin', a bit of suckin' up, and he all but handed me my spot back on a silver platter."  
  
"Did he now?" Steve asked with a small smile. "I'm glad to hear."  
  
"Not half as glad as Darry's gonna be," I sighed. "He threatened to skin me if I didn't find a way to fix things, and I think he meant it."  
  
"Probably," Steve agreed. "But he's just lookin' out for you, either way."  
  
"I wish he'd stop it," I muttered.   
  
"Well, somebody's gotta look after ya," Steve looked down at me with a smirk. "Or else how would we keep ya outta trouble?"  
  
"Oh, I dunno," I said mischievously, batting my eyelashes. "I reckon ya could think of somethin'."  
  
"I reckon I could at that," Steve murmured, lowering his head to capture my lips in a long, sweet kiss, the kind that make your eyes sparkle when it's over. When he pulled back, he chuckled, lifting his hand to his mouth and licking his thumb before reaching over to wipe at my chin. "Sorry," he said with a crooked smile. "Got a bit of grease on ya."  
  
"S'okay," I assured him. "I don't mind."  
  
"Well, the rest of us do," Soda drawled, waggling a wrench in our direction with a stern scowl that couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. "Could ya'll take that someplace else, some of us are actually tryin' to work."  
  
Rolling my eyes, I gave Steve an exasperated look. "I think I liked it better when he was still upset about us."  
  
"I don't," Steve said with an amused smile. "For one thing, it's nice to be able to kiss you whenever I want to, without worrying about tickin' off your brothers. And more importantly, I like not havin' to worry about Soda tryin' to kill me."  
  
"Oh, he might still kill ya one day," I informed him with a smirk. "After all, ya can't seem to ever keep your mouth shut durin' a braggin' session. What do ya s'pose ol' Sodapop is gonna do to ya if he learns ya corrupted his li'l sister."  
  
Steve's face paled, and I heard Soda make a choking sound behind me. "I didn't..." Steve stammered, taking a step back. "Soda, I swear to God, I didn't!"  
  
It was evil of me, I know, but the look on his face, and the look on Soda's face... it was too good to resist. Laughing, I waved Soda back, unable to keep from grinning. "Relax, big brother, he ain't done nothin' that requires ya to defend my honor. Not yet, anyway."  
  
"Lizzie," Steve cried indignantly, his eyes flickering to Soda.   
  
"Oh, don't look at me like that," I shook my head. "I was just tryin' to get a rise out of both of ya'll, and ya know it."  
  
"That's not funny," Soda said, a grimace on his face. "I don't want to even think about you and him and... Oh God, I need a cigarette."  
  
Wordlessly, Steve pulled one out of his pocket and tossed it to him.   
  
"Thanks, man," Soda said, grabbing a lighter from the table and lighting it.   
  
Deciding not to torture them anymore, I changed the subject. "I stopped in to talk to Mr. Syme on my way out of school," I told him.  
  
Soda's brows furrowed as he looked up at me, perplexed. "Pony's English teacher?"  
  
"I wanted to see if Ponyboy had handed in his theme essay yet," I explained with a shrug of my shoulders.  
  
"Did he?"  
  
"Yeah," I smiled in relief. "He got it first thing this mornin'."  
  
"Good," Soda nodded, blowing out a puff of smoke. "Glad to hear the kid is straightenin' himself out."  
  
"Not half as glad as Darry's gonna be," I replied. "He was ready to kill Pony if that essay didn't get handed in soon."  
  
"Pony'll get back on track," Soda shrugged. "He just needs to do it one step at a time, ya know? Speakin' of which, if you're back on the divin' team again, what are ya doin' about work?"  
  
"I'm goin' to cut back on my hours a bit at the diner, too," I told him. "Darry was pretty adamant about that, sayin' I was gonna work myself to death before I even turned eighteen."  
  
"He's got a point there," Steve said seriously. "You've been tired lately, ya can't keep up that pace, especially not if you're gonna be usin' up all that energy divin' every day."  
  
"I guess you're right," I sighed.  
  
"I'm always right, sweetheart," Steve informed me with a faint smirk, kissing my nose lightly. "It's part of my charm."  
  
"Uh huh," I snorted, rolling my eyes towards the ceiling. "Ya just keep thinkin' that, pal."  
  
"Face it, buddy," Soda taunted him gleefully. "I'm the one with the charm, you're the one with the brains."  
  
"Brains?" I asked coyly. "Steve?"  
  
Steve gave me a small scowl and swatted at me with his towel. "What is it with you Curtises? There somethin' genetic that makes ya'll enjoy tormentin' the rest of us so much?"  
  
"Probably from Dad's side of the family," I deadpanned. "Mom always liked you."  
  
Now it was Steve who rolled his eyes, as Soda chuckled in the background. "I don't know why I put up with either of ya."  
  
"Because you love us," Soda called sweetly as he headed back to the crowd of girls batting their eyelashes at him in the corner.  
  
Despite myself, my mouth dried at that, and while Soda didn't seem to give his words a second thought, it was clear that Steve had caught onto the double meaning, as well. I looked down at the floor of the DX station, trying not to blush, and hoping he wouldn't notice.  
  
"So what's the deal with divin'?" he asked after an uncomfortable moment, eager to change the subject. "Ya gonna think about college scholarships, or what?"  
  
"Darry wants me to," I responded simply.  
  
"I know that, but what do you want?" Steve responded with a frown. "When I brought up college last week ya didn't sound too sure it was the path ya wanted to take."  
  
"I'm not sure, I don't even have a clue," I admitted, glad he wouldn't jump down my back about it like Darry would have. "But I have time to think it over, right? I mean, I've got another two years after this one, so no rush to plan out my future or anythin'."  
  
"So long as I'm a part of it," Steve said casually, but there was a faint quickness to his breath that told me he'd meant that comment as anything but casual.  
  
"I think that can definitely be arranged," I told him with a small smile. "What about you?"  
  
"What about me?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"You're stickin' it out in school," I observed. "Do ya just really want your diploma since your old man doesn't think you can do it, or are ya plannin' on doin' somethin' with it once you get it?"  
  
Steve looked at me in surprise, then shook his head. "It's scary how ya do that sometimes."  
  
"Do what?" I asked, scrunching up my nose in confusion.  
  
"How you pick up on things that no one else does," Steve explained ruefully. "I didn't think anybody knew why I wanted to graduate."  
  
"It wasn't too hard to figure out," I shrugged. "Ya do a lot of things because of him, I reckon, and not nearly enough because of yourself."  
  
"I don't know what I'll do when I finish school," Steve replied absently. "Haven't given it too much thought, really. But I reckon I'll end up doin' somethin' with cars, it's what I love doin'."  
  
"Maybe you and Sodapop could open up your own garage someday," I suggested with a smile. "Curtis and Randle, or Randle and Curtis."  
  
"Maybe," Steve nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"Somethin' to think about, anyway," I shrugged again, then rose onto my toes to kiss him. "I gotta get goin', I'm on the clock in twenty minutes."  
  
"Ya need a lift?" Steve inquired.  
  
"Nah," I waved him off, starting across the garage. "It's a nice day out, I'll walk."  
  
Soda looked up from his sea of admirers as I passed. "See ya at home for dinner, Lizzie," he called. "I wouldn't be late, if I were you, Darry's cooking roast chicken."  
  
"I'll be on time," I promised. "So don't even think about eatin' my share."  
  
"Who?" Soda asked with an innocent grin. "Me?"  
  
  
**_A/N: Sorry this was such a short chapter, you guys, I have been swamped with school lately. I'll try my best to get a new chapter up, and a longer one at that, as soon as time permits._**


	27. TwentySeven

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

It was just starting to get dark outside by the time I arrived at the DX station with my bag slung over my shoulder. 

Diving practice had ended an hour ago, but I'd needed to shower in the locker room and dry my hair before changing, so I was one of the last girls to leave. Carol Hart was probably still there, fussing over her makeup and curling her hair for her date with Todd Myers, but I hadn't bothered with any of that. After a long, strenuous practice, I was exhausted, so I'd settled for simply pulling my hair back into a thick braid.

Besides, it was just Steve and we were just going to the drive-in. It had only been two months since we started dating, but we'd known each other for years, so I felt comfortable enough not to obsess about that stuff when I was with him. 

Of course, that didn't mean that I was opposed to adding just a dash of lipgloss, either, just in case.

I found Steve inside at the desk, filling out the day's report, and he glanced up as he heard the door open. "Hey," he said with a small smile, already changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of jeans and an opened blue and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up over a wife-beater. "I'll be done in a minute or two. I just need to finish this up real quick."

"Take your time," I replied, dropping my bag onto one of the chairs in the waiting area and sitting down in the one next to it. "I'm not in a hurry."

"How was practice?" Steve asked as he went back to his work.

"Exhausting," I answered truthfully, stifling a yawn. "If we didn't have a meet comin' up next week, I'd swear that Coach Durham was sadistic. My feet are practically raw from the board."

"Ouch," Steve said with a sympathetic wince.

"So where's my movie-star brother?" I asked dryly. "He leave ya to do all the work?"

"Nah," Steve chuckled. "He just left a few minutes before you got here. Apparently it's his night to cook, so he had to run by the grocery store to pick up stuff to make green pancakes."

"I knew it wouldn't last," I sighed, shaking my head in amusement. "As soon as his spirits picked up, we're back to crazy food again."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, not looking up from whatever he was doing. "That's our Sodapop, about as original as they come."

"Ain't that the truth," I murmured.

"Okay," Steve said a few moments later. "Let me lock up and we're out of here."

Rising to my feet, I grabbed my bag and followed him out, waiting patiently as he locked all the doors, then pocketed the keys. 

"Hi," he said as he turned around to smile down at me.

"Hi yourself," I replied, and he bent his head to kiss me. "That a proper hello?" I asked teasingly after he pulled back.

"Somethin' like that, yeah," Steve said with a grin, draping an arm over my shoulders as we started towards his car. 

The drive to the drive-in was fairly quiet, mostly because I was lost in my own thoughts, staring out the window. Steve glanced over at me a few times, but he knew me well enough to know that if I needed to talk, I'd talk.

Once we reached the drive-in, he parked the car and got the speaker hooked up, then told me he'd be right back and went to grab us some popcorn and drinks. While he was gone, I thought back on what I'd heard today in the locker room after practice, my emotions too jumbled and confused to really explain what it was I was feeling.

By the time Steve got back, though, I figured I'd better start talking, before he got worried and asked what was wrong. 

"What do ya wanna do with your life, Steve?" I asked once he was sitting beside me again, absently taking a sip of the Pepsi he'd brought me. "Are ya gonna work on cars your whole life, or do somethin' else?"

"Don't rightly know," Steve admitted, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I love workin' on cars, and I'm good at it, so I don't really see a point in doin' anythin' else." 

"It's a good job," I conceded, nodding to myself. "Ya make good money an' ya love your work. I ain't got a clue what I'm gonna do. I mean, if I had the time and focus and commitment, I'd love to keep divin', but that's not exactly a well-payin' job."

"Ya could dive at college," Steve pointed out. 

"Maybe," I shrugged. "And I reckon I could always find somethin' that interests me at college to do fo' a livin'."

"You're young, sweetheart," Steve reminded me with a crooked smile. "Ya got all the time in the world to figure out what your dreams are and go after them."

"Yeah, lucky me," I muttered.

Steve gave me a speculative look. "Where is all this comin' from?"

Sighing, I decided I might as well just tell him. "Ya know Suzie Blake? She's in your science class and on the divin' team with me?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded as he ate a handful of popcorn. "She's pretty hot and heavy with Billy Martin, right?"

"Right," I said quietly, turning over the news she'd revealed when I found her crying in the locker room after practice. "She just found out she's pregnant."

"Glory," Steve shook his head after a moment of surprise. "That's a shame, she's even younger than Sandy."

"Yeah," I murmured, ignoring the wave of compasion I suddenly felt for my brother's ex-girlfriend. "And Billy's not much older."

"So what are they gonna do?" Steve inquired, holding out the bag of popcorn to me, so I took some.

"They haven't decided yet," I answered as I popped a few pieces into my mouth. "Billy's job at the hardware store hardly pays anythin', and I know Suzie had her heart set on goin' to college so she could get outta this town... but that don't seem too likely anymore."

"Ya never know," Steve grunted, fiddling around with something under the hood. "Things might work out that way."

"Maybe," I said doubtfully.

"What's really botherin' ya, Lizzie?" Steve asked, his eyes searching mine. He moved our popcorn and drinks out of the way, turning in his seat so that he was facing me. "Hey, talk to me..."

"I guess I just realized how easily your dreams can be taken away from ya, ya know?" I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I mean Sandy and Suzie both had their whole lives ahead of them, and now..." I looked down at my hands uneasily, not really sure how to voice what it was I was trying to say. This was new territory for me, and I wasn't certain quite how to go about explaining it to him.

Thankfully, Steve Randle knows me better than just about anyone, and was able to figure out where I was going with the conversation.

"Sweetheart," he said softly, raising my chin to look me in the eye. "I'm not in any hurry."

"This from the guy who bragged to the whole gang when he got Evie into bed after a week?" I drawled sarcastically.

Steve chuckled, actually looking a bit sheepish about that. "Let me rephrase that," he replied. "I'm not in any hurry with you."

"And why is that?" I asked, uncertain whether to be relieved or upset by that. 

"Well, for one thing you're Soda's kid sister," Steve said, and I scowled. "Hey, don't do that," he said, shaking his head lightly. "You're Soda's sister, you're always gonna be his sister, and that's always goin' to be an issue to some degree."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered tartly.

"Elizabeth, don't be a brat," Steve sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm tryin' to explain things to you here."

"Fine," I said shortly, leaning against the door. "Explain away."

"When I said I'm in no hurry with you, I just meant that it's different with you than with other girls, that's all," Steve said gently.

"Different how?" I demanded, know sure why I was getting so upset, but something had just rubbed me the wrong way. "Different because I'm Soda's sister?"

"In part, yes," Steve shortly. "Soda is my best friend, I'm not goin' to do anythin' to screw that up if I can help it. And I'm sorry, but treatin' you like other girls would definitely cause problems with Soda."

"So you're saying that the only reason you're not in any hurry with me is because ya don't want my brother to wipe the floor with ya?" I asked, lifting my chin stubbornly.

"Lizzie," Steve growled, narrowing his eyes. "Don't go puttin' words in my mouth, ya hear? That ain't the only reason, and if you'd quit bein' such a hothead, you'd figure that out. Glory, I swear, sometimes ya are too damn much like Soda for your own good."

I glared at him for a long moment, trying to decide which part of that sentence ticked me off the most, being called a hothead or being compared to my brother. Luckily, Steve seemed to have the sense that it wasn't going to be a smart idea to let me respond to that.

"You're not like other girls," he said quietly, looking at me with a soft expression. "You're special. But then again, ya don't need me to tell ya that, you've always been special. When we were kids, I wanted to protect ya, and now..."

"And now?" I prodded.

"I still wanna protect ya," Steve said grimly. "But now I want to protect you from myself."

I stared at him in silence.

"You ain't gonna make this easy on me, are ya?" he demanded with a sigh.

"Should I?" I asked.

"No, probably not," he conceded. "Lizzie, I care about you. I care about more than I've ever cared about any girl, and frankly that's a bit dauntin'. I don't wanna screw things up with you, because... well... you're special."

"Ya said that already," I told him softly.

"Yeah, well, I meant it," he replied. "I don't know how else to explain it to ya, except to..."

"Except to what?" I whispered, my heart skipping a beat under his tender gaze.

Steve reached out and brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, moving a loose strand of hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. "Except to say that I..." he trailed off, swallowing hard, and my stomach fluttered. I had never seen Steve stumble over his own words like he was now, and it made my mouth go too dry to speak. "That I think I'm in love with you."

I forgot to breathe right then, and my chest got a funny weightless feeling, while tears started to sting in my eyes. I blinked them back, determined that I wasn't going to go and do something as girly as cry at a time like this.

"Oh," I managed to say, my voice shaking a bit, as I favored him with a smile. "Is that all?"

Steve chuckled, wiping away a tear that managed to slip past my eyelashes. "Yeah," he said huskily. "That's all."

"Well, then, I reckon ya want me to say it back, huh?" I asked.

"Might be nice," Steve agreed with a shrug that was meant to be casual, but came off as hopeful.

"Yeah," I said softly, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I think I love you, too."

A/N: Sorry this one was kind of short (and for the delay in posting)- school is tyring to kill me this semester. I wish I'd chosen an easier major than biochemistry, lol. There are still about three more chapters to go, so look for them sometime in the next few weeks.


End file.
